


Haunted by the past

by Frisk15



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Gen, Graphic Description, Hurt Steve McGarrett, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frisk15/pseuds/Frisk15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you can bury secrets from the past, stomp on their grave and they'll remain buried forever. There are times, though, that they'll claw their way out and start wreaking havoc in the present. One such secret has found its way to Honolulu. It starts an unstoppable chain of events which will drive members of Five-0 and their family insane with doubt, anger and remorse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From LA to Honolulu

**Author's Note:**

> The take-off of this story is delayed from the beginning but will pick up speed as it goes along, hopefully becoming a roller coaster ride of emotions and suspense.
> 
> WARNING - There will be mayhem as the plot unfolds, including some pretty descriptive scenes like accidents, injuries, flashbacks to war, etc. If this does upset you, please don't read it. I would not want to be responsible for your nightmares!

1\. FROM LA TO HONOLULU

 

The young auburn haired stewardess in the dark blue United Airlines dress is relaxing in the back galley; she looks up in surprise at the sound of the flight attendance chime, the steady blue light indicating seat 33-A.

She knows immediately who it is.

Looking at her watch she sees it's almost 2 AM; most of the passengers are fast asleep. They're now over four hours into the flight, and with a little luck they'll land at Honolulu in about two hours.

The flight, which was supposed to have taken off from LAX at 7:05 PM, finally received clearance for take-off after a two and a half hour delay. The thunder storm hovering over the airport was a bad one.

She had totally agreed with the tower's decision to keep all planes grounded until it had passed, although it had taken a hefty dose of both diplomacy and self-control to placate the grumbling passengers who had just boarded.

Of course it had been just her luck to have one passenger totally flip out. "I want a goddamn drink, lady; now!" the passenger in seat 36-D had snapped at her.

She'd sighed, once again explaining to the red faced, balding man that she was not allowed to serve alcohol while the plane was still on the ground.

She had tried to leave, but he'd half risen out of his seat and grabbed her wrist in a painful, numbing grip. "Give me that drink, or I swear I will …"

She'd seen his other hand come up and had half expected to be hit, when she heard him give a yelp of pain. The next moment her wrist was released and she was gently but firmly pushed out of the way. As she'd stood there rubbing her wrist, still blinking at the sudden pain, she watched a man lean over and talk to the passenger, now back in his seat.

Broad-shouldered, dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans and boots, he'd spoken in a low, calm voice.

She hadn't heard what he said, but she had watched the passenger blanch, first nod and then shake his head. The man had patted him on the shoulder and turned towards her.

"You OK?" he'd asked, taking her wrist and looking at it. She'd taken in his tall, muscular form, the brown eyes looking at her inquisitively from underneath thick, dark eyebrows; the square jaw, a scar running across it, was sporting a pepper-and-salt stubble.

She had nodded, acutely aware of his hands on her wrist, and he'd given her a quick smile. She watched him walk off and settle into his corner seat by the bathrooms, arranging his long legs. Then, throwing a quick, withering look at the troublemaker, she'd gone back about her business.

She gets up and walks towards 33-A; there are now dark circles underneath the man's eyes, and the stubble on his chin is more pronounced.

She whispers so she doesn't disturb the sleeping passenger sitting next to him. "Can I get you anything?"

He smiles. "Coffee, if you have some."

She nods, goes back to the galley and quickly makes some fresh coffee. As an afterthought she gets out the small Thermos she always takes with her, rinses it out, fills it with coffee, grabs a few wrapped sandwiches and goes back to the passenger.

He's rifling through some papers when she reaches his seat; smiling, she hands him the Thermos and sandwiches. When he raises his eyebrows in surprise she says: "So you won't bug me again, or the other passengers." She winks at him and he gives her a big grin, making him look a lot younger than the forty or so years she thinks he is.

"Thank you" he whispers in a low voice, and she smiles and nods again before heading back to the galley.

The plane lands two hours later; the stewardesses supervise the passengers' disembarking procedure, which seems to take forever.

When the plane is almost empty, a hand touches the arm of the auburn haired stewardess standing near the exit; she looks up and sees the man from seat 33-A. He holds up her Thermos. "Cleaned it as well as I could."

She smiles, takes the flask from him, and then shakes his hand. "It's the least I could do after you helped me with that aggressive man."

He nods, says "No problem" and then steps off the plane onto the jet bridge.

* * *

Detective Gabriel Martinez from the Gangs and Narcotics Division or GND of the Los Angeles Police Department sits slouched down in one of the bucket seats near Gate 9 at Honolulu Airport; the light padding is doing nothing to alleviate the backache he's developing.

Sergeant Anakoni "Tony" Mano from the Hawaiian Police Department sits next to him, reading a magazine. They've been sitting there for over an hour, having arrived too early despite checking the flight's status, waiting for Gabriel's partner who is coming to join him in Hawaii.

The two LA detectives have been working a case for over a year now, uncovering a large narcotics network lead by a man named Cahan Brody, an Irish national whose family has been linked to Sinn Féin in the past.

The level of ruthlessness this man has displayed in taking out rivals, as well as the involvement of several of the major gangs within LA, makes the case the number one priority on their 'To Do' list.

When the main suspect, Brody, magically disappeared right when they'd gotten close, a re-evaluation of the facts uncovered a link with Hawaii.

Their only hope of finding Brody is following up on the link, and having worked this case for so long, it's only logical the two detectives go to Hawaii themselves. They had decided Gabriel would go first, his partner still needing to dot some i's and cross a few t's before being able to leave.

Gabriel looks at his watch. "First the plane's late, now the man himself is late" he grumbles. "I bet three-quarters of that bird is empty already." He rubs his eyes, then sneezes.

"Ola!" says Tony, looking up from his magazine. Gabriel looks at him, lifts his eyebrow. "That's 'bless you' in Hawaiian."

"Right." says Gabriel, then spots a dark head above the other passengers, moving swiftly among them as he's coming out of the jet bridge. "Finally!" He gets up, pops his back and walks towards the tall tired looking man carrying a military styled duffel bag. "Hey there, Matt. You sure took your sweet time." He claps him on the back, then tries to take his bag from him.

"Don't bother, Gabe, I got my piece in there; better carry it myself." Gabriel notices that Matt's voice sounds even gruffer than usual. The guy must be dead on his feet.

Tony smiles and sticks out a hand: "On behalf of the HPD, welcome to Honolulu, Detective Sterling. I'm Sergeant Tony Mano; I'm here to pick you up and take you to your accommodations."

Matt takes his hand and shakes it. "Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go to wherever I'm staying, have a shower and then get some sleep."

The young Hawaiian HPD-sergeant is slightly taken aback at the man's directness.

Gabriel notices it, and sighs; his partner's social skills, or better described as lack thereof, are a constant subject of discussion between them. He decides to give him a break now, though.

Tony scrapes his throat. "If you'll come with me, I'll drive you to your apartment in Aina Haina. We've arranged for your rental car to be dropped off there, so you don't need to go through that hassle tomorrow."

Matt nods appreciatively.

They bypass Immigration and Customs quickly and without a hitch, and when they get outside Matt stands still for a moment to inhale the cool, clean night air.

"You clogged up again, dude?" Gabriel asks. When Matt nods, he continues: "Those vents systems in planes and airports get you every time, don't they?"

He knows this is an after effect of injuries Matt sustained in Iraq some ten years ago, but he's never been made privy to the exact details.

Matt never talks about his time there, and when Gabriel found out his partner was a former Marine, Matt had simply chopped off Gabriel's initial questions with a joking "That's classified; if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Somehow Gabriel had felt that, underneath the joke, Matt was deadly serious.

* * *

_Matt had only ever once volunteered information directly related to having been in a war._

_One night, while having a beer after a particularly intensive day, Gabriel noticed Matt ignoring a pretty girl's obvious efforts to flirt with him._

_Curious, he asked why he'd never seen Matt with a woman. "How about that, dude; is there something I need to know?" Grinning, he joked: "Do I need to be afraid when you say you have my back?"_

_Matt's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Don't worry, Gabe; I don't cheer for the same team."_

_Gabriel nodded, then asked: "So how come there's no woman in your life, man?"_

_Matt took a long sip from his beer, then calmly looked Gabriel straight in the eye. "Because they can't handle my nightmares."_

_Gabriel's beer had frozen halfway to his mouth; as he looked into Matt's eyes, he saw a flicker of an emotion so raw, so gut-wrenchingly stark that it cut off his breath. He'd slowly put the beer to his mouth, taking his time, unable to come up with one of his usual quips._

_Matt kept looking at him, and Gabriel eventually nodded, dead serious. "I get it, Matt; I get it." And he did._

_He knew that people could experience things, could go through situations that would not only scar them for life, but the reverberations of which could send those close to them running, shrieking in terror._

_It had happened to him when he was young, and stupid, and part of the gang scene in LA; and afterwards as well, when he'd jumped out and joined the LAPD, and then gone undercover._

_So yes, he'd gotten what Matt meant. And had silently vowed to never mention it again._

* * *

It takes them about fifteen minutes to get to Papai Street in the Aina Haina area, where Tony pulls into the driveway of an old-fashioned 1950's house. He parks behind a black Dodge Avenger, turns around to Matt and hands him a set of keys. "These are the keys to the house and," he turns back and nods to the Dodge, "for your rental car."

Matt accepts the keys, then looks at the house, where a soft yellow light shines from within. "I'm sure it's fine. Thank you."

Tony nods at him.

"Well, you go do what tired people do, dude, and I'll see you tomorrow" says Gabriel and he claps Matt on the shoulder.

Matt gets out of the car. "Normally I'd invite you guys in, but I don't know if there's anything I can offer you, and more importantly, I really need to sleep."

Gabriel waves away his apology. "Don't worry about it." He grins. "You go drink by yourself." Matt throws him a questioning look, and Gabriel continues: "I stocked the fridge and got some basic food stuff. That way you don't need to rush to the stores first thing in the morning. Oh, and there's a map on the kitchen counter where I've marked a few points of interest for you, like the HPD. So you won't get lost."

"Great, thanks Gabe." Matt lifts a hand as they reverse out of the driveway, then turns around and opens the front door.

The house is small and sparsely furnished; there's a couch, two comfortable chairs and a coffee table in the living room area, a made-up double bed and built-in closets in the bedroom, a tiny but functional bathroom and a small cupboard in the hallway connecting the two rooms.

Matt is glad he has opted to accept the offer of spending his time in Hawaii in a private home. Hotels are not his thing; he prefers to be able to grab his towel from where he hung it last and doesn't like people coming into his room, even if only to clean.

Most importantly though, he knows he won't get much sleep in a hotel.

The little house is owned by a cousin of Detective Noa Mahi'ai from the HPD, their liaison in Hawaii. Having recently bought a bigger house after getting married, the cousin is not using the little house and plans to put it on the market; it's perfect for Matt, who knows he has Gabriel to thank for this opportunity. His partner is aware of his sleeping problems and arranged this under the ruse of Matt needing private space in order for them to review the case.

The kitchen has all the basic amenities, and Matt sees his partner has not only left a map, but there's a file marked 'Brody' on the counter as well. The fridge is stocked with basic food items, milk, a six pack of Budweiser and another six pack of what Matt presumes to be Hawaiian beer, Longboard.

Matt takes one of the Hawaiian beers, opens it and takes a sip; liking the slightly spicy flavor he takes the bottle and the file to the bedroom, kicks off his boots and lies down, flipping through the papers.

It's not even ten minutes later when the words in front of him start to blur; he finishes off his beer, goes to the bathroom, strips down and hops into the shower. Fifteen minutes later he's in bed, and in less than two he's asleep.

A few hours later the nightmares come, as they always do.

* * *

"Where's Five-0?!" Just be patient. McGarrett & Co. will put in an appearance soon, I promise. I hope you'll continue to join me for the ride .


	2. Looking for Cahan Brody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is a bit like a steam train; it takes a while to get going, build up the pressure, wheels slipping on the rails ... but I think it's starting to pick up speed. For those of you following this: thank you. Hope you won't be disappointed ;-)

 

There's a repetitive sound invading Matt's mind, at first part of the jumbled dream images in his mind. It stops for a while, allowing him to sink back to a place where he's floating, like a swimmer in a vast ocean. He's at peace, there are no sharp sounds like the ones he usually hears; no screams...

The repetitive sound comes back, and this time it manages to coax him into wakefulness; groaning, he throws out an arm and takes the phone off the little side-table, answering the call. "This better be good" he grumbles, as he sees that the red digits on the alarm clock indicate that it's not yet 7 AM.

"Hey grouch, that's no way to greet your partner!" he hears Gabriel's upbeat voice at the other end.

Matt rubs his eyes, throws back the sheet and swings out his legs to sit on the edge of the bed; his left leg is a little stiffer than usual from the flight, and he flexes it to get the circulation going. "Gabe, for crying out loud ... it's not even seven o'clock!"

He hears him snigger. "Can't be wasting the tax payers' dollars by sleeping in, man. They expect us to work, you know."

"Less than five hours sleep is not exactly considered 'sleeping in' by most." Matt yawns audibly.

"C'mon dude, get your ass in gear. I'll see you at the HPD in, what, an hour?"

Matt checks the clock again, then answers: "Make that an hour and a half."

Gabriel huffs at the other end. "What, a fit guy like yourself, an ex-gung-ho, needs that long for the three S's?! You must be really getting old!"

Matt smiles; the fifteen year age gap has been a joke between them since the day they became partners, meaning Gabriel does the joking and Matt has to bear the brunt of it. "Yeah, well, this old fart is going to hang up on you now. See you there around 8:30, 'kay?" He waits for a confirmation, then hangs up.

It takes Matt less than half an hour to shower, get dressed and fry some eggs. He throws the dishes in the sink; they can wait 'till later.

He spends the next thirty minutes going over the file Gabriel has left to update him on new developments in the Brody case. There's some interesting facts in it, but nothing jumps out at him. Sighing, he places the file on the coffee table, clips his holster with weapon on his belt, grabs his wallet, ID and car keys, is halfway out the door when he remembers Gabriel's map, grabs that and heads out to the car.

It's time to meet up with the guys from the HPD, and hopefully find a new clue in this case.

* * *

It takes Matt about twenty minutes to drive to the HPD, taking it easy on the unfamiliar roads and looking at the sights along the way.

Once there, a quick call from the front desk summons a good-natured looking elderly man, who approaches him with his hand outstretched: "Good morning, Detective Sterling; I'm Noa Mahi'ai, we spoke on the phone earlier this week."

Matt recognizes the voice; Mahi'ai had answered their questions when they called Honolulu to find out whether it would be worth the effort to follow up on the link they thought they'd found. He accepts the proffered hand and follows the Hawaiian detective to a small room behind the main office; Gabriel is sitting at the table there, a stack of files in front of him, a mug of coffee at his side.

"Hey there, partner" he greets Matt. "Great to see you; glad you didn't get lost; you know, at your age ..." He winks and grins.

"Can it, Gabe. Folks here might start believing it's true and have me admitted to an old folk's home."

Noa Mahi'ai looks from Gabriel to Matt, then smiles. "Don't worry; over here we respect those that are older, as they are usually wiser and more experienced than those young snot noses that think they know it all."

He winks at Matt, who grins at Gabriel. The latter sputters: "Hey, what?! I ain't no snot nose!"

They joke around for a few more minutes, then Matt gets serious. "Detective Mahi'ai, are these all the files?"

"Yes, as far as we can tell this is all the information, both our own and that of the Drug Enforcement Administration. And please call me Noa."

He looks at Gabriel. "You, however, may call me Detective Mahi'ai. Out of respect." Matt is still laughing at Gabriel's stunned look when the Hawaiian walks out of the room.

* * *

They've been pouring over the files for hours, guzzling coffee and grabbing a quick bite at the end of the morning, and the only thing they've gotten out of it is a headache.

"There's nothing here, Matt" grumbles Gabriel in frustration as he paces the little room. "At least, nothing that we don't know already, or can use."

Matt sits hunched over, rubbing his eyes. He's still feeling the effects of the flight, and his leg is now screaming blue murder at him for sitting down so long. He gets up, grimacing as he puts weight on it, then stretches out. "I need to take a walk, Gabe, before this thing seizes up on me."

Gabriel nods his understanding. "Go ahead, I'm going to grab some more coffee." When Matt frowns, he continues: "I know, it's nasty stuff; but it kinda grows on you."

Matt leaves the room and walks through the main office, feeling the stares of the local cops following him as he heads towards the exit. His leg is cramping up and he utters a silent 'Damn!' as he feels a slight limp developing; he knows he should've taken the day off to rest, as he usually does after flying somewhere. The restricted leg room in airplanes, even if he has a seat with extra space around it, always has this effect.

When he's outside, he walks down the stairs leading to the entrance and then sits down on the little wall right next to it. The big tree behind him offers a welcome shade from the sun. Groaning he stretches out his leg, massaging the tight knots which have formed under the scars at the back of it. He's glad he was saved the trouble of having to explain to airport security why the alarms went berserk if he were to pass through a security gate.

His phone rings, and when he looks at the display he sees it's Gabriel. "Yeah, what's up, Gabe? Miss me already?"

The smile on his face disappears when he listens to the exited babble of his partner. "OK, calm down, Gabe; you're not making sense." He listens again, then says: "All right, I'll be right back."

He sighs, gets up and goes back up the stairs, each step eliciting a painful jab in his leg. When he arrives at the room in the back he sees Gabriel, flanked by Noa Mahi'ai.

"Matt! You won't believe this, but our man's here, in Honolulu."

Matt freezes just as he's about to sit down. "What, Brody? Here?!" he asks incredulously.

Nodding, Gabriel hands him a folder, and when he opens it he just stares, lost for words. It's an arrest report, and the man looking back at him from the picture attached to it is none other than Cahan Brody. Matt looks from the picture to Gabriel and Noa, then back at the folder again. "How the hell was this missed?!"

"Look at the name, Matt" says Gabriel, while he points towards a spot somewhere near the top of the file. The name stated in the report is not that of Cahan Brody; it's Kevin Dolan.

Matt quickly scans through the rest, then stops at an entry. "American nationality? How's that possible? Brody is _Irish_!"

Gabriel nods. "I know. That must've been why it was overlooked, that and the name. But it's him."

The Hawaiian detective scrapes his throat. "About two months ago, he got busted for a DUI and had his picture and prints taken. He was put in the holding tank to sober up and then let go while awaiting trial."

"We checked against his ID whether there was a warrant out for him, but nothing popped up. Man was as clean as a newborn baby." Matt just sits there, stunned. Mahi'ai continues: "You described him pretty well while we were on the phone, and that already gave me the feeling I knew him. But the name ..." He shrugs and holds up his hands. "Then this morning I overheard you discussing some other things, like how he always manages to evade arrest, and I thought that was just too much to be a coincidence."

"How so?" asks Gabriel.

"Well, first of, when I saw this guy" says Mahi'ai while he points at Brody's picture, "something just felt off; it was his whole demeanor, as if he was oozing pent-up aggression. And then there was his court date."

Matt already knows the answer to his next question. "Did he show up for trial?"

Gabriel utters a short laugh as Mahi'ai shakes his head. "That was the other thing that stuck with me about this guy."

Matt groans. "He did a runner."

"Yup, he did. We haven't been able to find out where he's hiding, but we're almost certain he hasn't left the island."

Mahi'ai pulls back a chair and sits down, while Gabriel secures an empty spot on a corner of the table.

"What I don't get," says Gabriel, "is how he manages to handle two separate identities without having been caught before. I mean, how did he get American citizenship?"

He looks at Matt, but it's Mahi'ai who answers. "Guess he entered the country illegally and then used false papers to apply for his citizenship."

Matt nods. "Very likely; I've heard of cases like that before. All he had to do was make damn sure he never did anything illegal while using his American nationality, file his tax returns on time ... just be a model citizen. Nobody would be the wiser for it."

Mahi'ai grunts. "Until he slipped up here in Honolulu."

* * *

They spend the rest of the afternoon digging up everything they can find on Kevin Dolan; Matt and Mahi'ai again going over the information on Brody with a fine tooth comb, while Gabriel places numerous phone calls to the mainland. But Mahi'ai is right; with the exception of the DUI in Honolulu, they find nothing connected to Brody's alter ego. A model citizen, indeed.

Towards the end of the afternoon, just as Mahi'ai is rehashing the story about Dolan's DUI arrest again to Matt, Gabriel walks into the room; he is pale, and there's a look on his face that instantly tells Mat something is seriously wrong.

"What's up, Gabe? You look like you've seen the devil himself."

Gabriel just stares at him.

"Jesus, Gabe! What's wrong?!" Matt worriedly starts to get up but Mahi'ai puts out a hand to stop him.

"You stay, Matt; I've seen your limp."

He pushes his chair towards Gabriel. "Here, kid; sit down before you fall over and hurt yourself."

Gabriel gives him a wan smile, sits down and puts his head in his hands. He's quiet for a second, then looks up at Matt. "You're never going to believe this." Matt lifts an eyebrow, silently waiting for Gabriel to continue. "I just got off the phone with LAPD; they called here with some new information." He swallows, then continues. "This morning they acted on a tip from an informant and made a bust at Ramona Gardens, going after the Big Hazard."

Matt frowns; he starts to understand why Gabriel is upset. The Big Hazard gang, part of the Mexican mafia and active in the LA Boyle Heights area, is the same gang Gabriel had infiltrated years ago. It had nearly cost him his life when his cover was blown, the punishment meted out by the gang to 'snitches' usually a lethal one.

"Anyway," says Gabriel, leaning back while his hand nervously flicks his hair out of his eyes, "they have been interrogating them all day, and just as they were wrapping up for the day this one guy mentioned Brody. Not only that, but he said something about the man having 'two faces', making him as slippery as an eel in a bucket of snot."

"Shit, Gabe, that's a _good_ thing" exclaims Matt. "If they can get that in writing, we have a statement to go with the actual proof of Brody´s double identity!"

Gabriel nods, still looking like death warmed over. "That's not the only name that got mentioned, Matt." He swallows again. "The other one was mine."

Matt stares at Gabriel. "Yours?" Gabriel nods. "Yup. Jameson told me to lay low; seems they have put a hit out on me. And they want me badly; the hit has been ordered by both Ché Juarez and Brody himself."

Matt is very worried now, and he totally understands why Gabriel, who usually isn't afraid of anything, is badly shaken. Gabriel had been responsible for the arrest of Ernesto Juarez, nicknamed 'Ché' after the revolutionary with the same name. Ché had sworn to kill Gabriel after his cover had been blown. But things have been quiet for years, and after their initial worry about the gang's payback, they had come to the conclusion that Gabriel was in the clear, that things had blown over. Stupid; they should've known better.

The fact that Brody has underwritten the hit means two things to Matt.

The first is that years ago, when Gabriel had secured a position within the Big Hazard gang, their suspicion that a major part of the drugs the gang were peddling had a different source than the usual South American one, had been correct. They had just never been able to pinpoint the exact origin.

The second thing is that, somehow, Brody has been able to make the connection between Matt and Gabriel investigating his narcotics ring, and the undercover operation years before. Matt realizes Brody must´ve been involved with the Los Angeles gangs years before they had thought.

Matt knows his partner's life is now in serious danger. "Well, guess right now you're better off being here than in LA, Gabe" he says in an effort to calm Gabriel.

"Yeah, guess so." Gabriel nods reluctantly.

Mahi'ai scrapes his throat. "I'll make sure that we pull a list of all know Hazard members still walking around, and give that to both airport and harbor security. That way, as soon as one of them sets foot on the island, we'll be alerted." He feels bad for the younger man; even though being a detective means you always run the risk of having some criminal out to get you, being actually informed of someone putting a hit out on you is shocking.

Gabriel looks at the two older men, and somehow is comforted by the knowledge that both of them have his back. He sighs, picks up his half empty coffee mug from the table and swirls the now cold coffee around. "Well, might as well get some new coffee; with all this new information, we're not done for the day yet, I guess." He winks at Matt, who smiles back at him, glad to see Gabriel has gotten over his initial shock.

* * *

They're wrapping things up for the day; Gabriel has called Los Angeles again to obtain all the interrogation info that might be useful, and is now processing it so it can be added to the case file they have on Brody.

He shakes his head, looking at the papers. "I still can't believe it! All this time we're looking for Brody, and the jerk just runs circles 'round us by using another identity! Comes in using the one, does his drug thing using the other and then slips by us using the first again! No wonder we couldn't grab him!"

His rant is stopped by Matt raising a hand. "Seems like we're not the only ones looking for him now, though." He's leafing through the arrest report again and is now looking at a paper attached to the back of it. He puts his finger on a stamp and signature, then looks at Mahi'ai. "What is this 'State Police Task Force'? And who's Commander McGarrett?"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter Steve will pop up, somebody else will go down, and instead of answers, more questions will arise.  
> If you're still with me, I hope you're enjoying the ride ;-)


	3. Incident at Kahala Mall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, not only is this thing picking up speed, but it will be going full steam ahead!  
> Now let's see where this thing is taking us ...

"Steven ..." He turns and his leap forward is just in time to catch Doris before she hits the floor. She barely misses hitting her head on one of the little tables lined up along the fountain at Kahala Mall, and he carefully guides her limp body down between a few chairs. "Mom! What's wrong?!"

Her face is deadly white and her eyes have that unfocused look someone has when they're on the verge of passing out. Steve is convinced that's what's happening but he has no idea why. Or is it possible she is having a stroke?

He props her up in a more upright position so she is actually leaning against the side of the fountain. "Mom? _Doris!_ "

He is about to pat her face to get a reaction when two dark eyes shoot up to meet his; not so unfocused now. "Don't call me that, Steven!"

The right side of his mouth shoots up in a quick smirk. She's not on death's door, that's for sure. "Sorry … Mom."

He knows how she hates him calling her by her first name, not only because she considers it to be disrespectful towards a parent but also because it drives home the point that she hadn't been there for them for so long. Secretly he gets some satisfaction out of the quick look of anguish he sometimes sees passing over her face whenever he calls her Doris. It does little to alleviate all the hurt and anguish caused by her decision to 'play dead' all those years ago, but it's a small pay-back nonetheless.

"Sir? Is there anything we can do, maybe call an ambulance?" Steve looks up over his shoulder at the Mall security officer standing behind him. The man looks past Steve at Doris who's now running a hand through her hair, busily composing herself. Steve does a quick assessment.

Whatever hit her just a few seconds ago seems to have passed. His mother's co-ordination seems fine; she uses both hands to lift her purse off the floor and her face doesn't look 'off' as it would when paralyzed by a stroke. And there's definitely nothing wrong with her speech.

"Steven, for heaven's sake help me get up!"

He lifts an eyebrow before extending a hand. "What? You don't expect me to be all acrobatic with my legs tangled in these chairs, do you?!" He grins and turns back towards the guard still hovering at his shoulder. "No need for an ambulance, I think she's fine. Maybe a little low blood sugar, it happens at that age."

His remark is rewarded by a swift, painful kick to his ankle meted out by a now angry looking Doris. "Ow! Hey, c'mon!"

Doris pulls herself up while holding Steve's hand and when she's standing, pulls him slightly towards her and puts her mouth close to her son's right ear. "Next time you try to make me look like a senile old woman, I don't care how many people are watching but I'll kick your ass!"

There's a steely undertone in her voice and when Steve glances to his right at the face just a couple of inches removed from his own, he suddenly glimpses that part of her that has nothing to do with kissing a little boy's skinned knee but has no problem putting a bullet between somebody's eyes. There's a look in her eyes that his Five-0 team members would have no problem recognizing at all; it's the same look that appears on his own face whenever a suspect has his complete attention. Mother and son are obviously cut from the same cloth. For Steve, this is still something he needs to fully digest.

Doris lets go of his hand and sits down on one of the chairs the security guard has just placed back on its feet again. Sighing, she asks "Steven, be a dear. Get me a coffee, OK?" She nods towards the Starbucks just to her left.

"You're sure? I mean... Mom, what happened just now?" Steve leans towards her, his hands placed on the table as he scrutinizes her face.

Doris won't meet his eyes, instead looking into the little compact mirror she has extracted from her purse. "I just felt a little faint, Steven, that's all. I haven't been feeling well since this morning, that's why I wanted to go here instead of the Ala Moana. It's much quieter here."

Steve stares into her face, knows she's telling a lie. First of all, he's not buying the 'infirm elderly' act, especially after what she just whispered in his ear. And she was feeling fine when he met her after her call this morning, asking him if he had time for coffee and wanted to join her at Kahala Mall, where she would be shopping for a 'desperately needed upgrade' of her wardrobe after living out of suitcases for so long. Not a word then about 'not feeling well'. He decides to let it slide for now. "OK, I'll be right back. Just stay." He ignores the indignant look she shoots him and heads towards the coffee counter.

As soon as Steve's back is turned, Doris whips her head around to look at the stores on the other side of the fountain, scanning the crowd.

All feelings of dizziness are gone as she concentrates on finding him, but he isn't there any more, and she feels twin sensations of relief and disappointment battling inside her.

* * *

Matt watches from behind one of the indoor palm trees just beyond the Apple store, looking at the woman who sits at a table near the fountain.

He'd almost run over when she sank to the ground, but instead ducked out of sight when he realized her son - he heard him yell "Mom" loud and clear - was there to handle things.

She's just scanned the crowd, looking for him, but he's blocked from her view by other shoppers as well as the neatly potted foliage. He can't believe he's seen her, after all these years.

He was about to enter the store when that certain tingling sensation told him something was off; somebody was watching him. His senses went into immediate overdrive and adrenaline started coursing through his body, preparing it for whatever situation might unfold. Turning around he scanned the crowd, quickly dismissing everything that didn't prompt a 'red flag' in his awareness.

His eyes came to rest on the figure of a woman clad in simple dark slacks and a formfitting grey long sleeved shirt standing near the ATM machine.

She was passed middle aged but had a wiry, fit look about her. As his eyes met hers, it took him a split second to realize who it was; the woman from Parris Island!

* * *

_The first time he'd seen her had been a long time ago, during his final days as a Marine Corps Recruit on Parris Island._

_Once, during Family Day, when he had been horsing around with his younger brother Jimmy. That same tingling sensation - something which he always seemed to have had - kicked in, telling him he was being watched._

_He spotted her standing next to the statue of Iron Mike; tall, long limbed, possibly somewhere in her early thirties. She was looking straight at him._

_Right then his over-enthusiastic brother had managed to take him into a head-lock, and when he looked up again, after the few moments it had taken him to untangle himself from Jimmy's hold, she was gone._

_The next day he'd seen her again during the flag raising Morning Colors ceremony. He'd spotted her out of the corner of his eye, this time sitting behind the wheel of a dirty Ford pickup. When he turned his head, she drove off._

_It had left him dumbfounded, keeping his thoughts busy for the next week or so. But then life happened, and he just forgot about the whole thing._

* * *

He hadn't thought of her anymore for over twenty years. Until today.

When he woke up this morning he'd spent several moments in bed, gingerly stretching and massaging his leg while going over yesterday's events. Brody's double identity, the hit put out on Gabriel; those were all much more than they'd bargained for.

Noa Mahi'ai had filled them in on the nature of the Governor's Task Force, or 'Five-0' as it was locally known. He had called a friend of his, Chin Ho Kelly - a former HPD member and now part of Five-0 - to set up a meeting, but much to Matt's dismay that would have to wait until Monday; Five-0's commander McGarrett was flying out to California on Friday for a three day stay.

Matt had decided to use the day and do paperwork at the little house he was staying at; Gabriel would join him in the afternoon, opting to first spend time at HPD to try and gather more information on the hit that was put out on him. He had offered to assist but Gabriel had said he would be fine and could ask Mahi'ai's help if needed. "You rest, Gramps." he'd said jokingly, knowing full well Matt's leg had acted up badly this time.

So Matt had planned on a quiet morning. Unfortunately knocking his phone off the kitchen counter had thrown a spanner in the works; the screen was completely cracked, making the phone useless. Muttering under his breath he had rifled through the Yellow Pages he found in the hallway cupboard, and fortunately the nearest Apple store was less than ten minutes away at the Kahala Mall, a nearby shopping center.

He'd been about to enter the store when the tingling sensation started.

He watches the woman turn as her son walks up to the table with a coffee in his hand. They talk, and apparently he asks her a question as she shakes her head in an obvious 'no'.

The guy throws up his hands in what appears to be desperation, a frustrated look on his face. As he does, his shirt rides up a bit and Matt immediately spots the P226 Navy holstered at his belt, next to a badge. The fact that he has a fitter-than-average build also doesn't escape his attention. The unconcealed weapon and badge mean 'law enforcement', but something about the man hints at something else. Matt frowns and makes a mental note of this.

The woman and her son get up. She throws the coffee cup in the trash and they head towards the doors of the mall. As the man looks at something that catches his attention, the woman suddenly turns her head in Matt's direction.

He quickly ducks back behind the palm tree, hoping she hasn't spotted him. His heart starts to race again, almost at the same hectic pace as when he saw her; recognized her. He quickly closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, willing the loud pounding in his chest to slow down. When he takes another peek from behind the plant he can see the pair has left the mall.

Matt leans back, breathing a deep sigh. He needs to meet this woman, find out who she is; but that will have to wait. He does ot want to confront her in public, least of all with her son present.

Another time, then.

* * *

"Stupid, stupid, _STUPID_!" Doris paces the living room; Steve has dropped her off at home while on his way to Five-0. He does not want her to drive and will have her car picked up later.

She's furious at herself for not knowing Matt was coming to Honolulu. How on earth could she have been so careless to lose track of him?!

Logically she knows it's the result of everything that has happened these last few years; constantly having to be on guard to keep Steve at bay, throwing up smoke to get him off her scent, having to plan every move and every action. This son of hers has a pit bull mentality once he latches on to something.

But that isn't an excuse, _shouldn't_ be an excuse! And what on earth has brought Matt here, of all places?!

* * *

_Doris had seen him only moments after she and Steve walked into the mall._

_They were standing at the salad bar just inside the entrance and she was debating on getting her daily greens there, when some inner voice told her to look to her right. Her eyes had immediately locked on the tall muscular figure walking towards the Apple Store, and her breath stuck in her throat. Matt?! Couldn't be!_

_She took a few steps in his direction, then realized she needed to get a grip on herself and be less conspicuous. Acting like she was looking into her wallet, she said: "Steven, sorry, I think I need to get some cash first."_

_She moved towards the ATM, all the while glancing from underneath her eyelashes at the man now almost entering the store on the other side of the fountain. She vaguely heard Steve mumble something under his breath, heard his footsteps as he took longs strides to catch up with her._

_She continued to focus on the man across the fountain._

_Then it happened; he turned around and scanned the crowd, almost as if he felt someone was watching._

_Doris felt herself coming to a full stop as the man's eyes came to rest on her. She wasn't aware of Steve continuing to walk towards the ATM, she wasn't aware of anything but those brown eyes locking with her own. She watched them widen and saw his mouth open, as if to ask a question; with a sickening shock she realized that he had recognized her._

_As her world turned into a monochrome grey and all sound suddenly appeared to come through a thick fog, she managed to weakly utter Steve's name as she felt her knees suddenly buckle._

* * *

The last news she heard off Matt was well over four years ago when he joined the GND, the special 'gangs and narcotics' task force of the Los Angeles Police Department. Following his quick rise through the ranks in less time than usual, his background, experiences and skills were considered a valuable asset to the GND.

She stops in the middle of the room; this sudden unexpected encounter has deeply affected her, and she needs to determine how to proceed from here. Sitting down at the table she starts to go over her options, mentally weighing them against each other.

She arrives at the only logical conclusion: she needs to tell Joe. He's the only one she can trust, the only one able to help her out.

She gets her phone out of her purse and flicks through her contacts. As her thumb hovers over Joe's name she realizes that by calling him she will set in motion a chain of events that, no matter what, she won't be able to stop. There's no going back after she does this.

It's something she isn't sure she's willing to risk right now, not even sure she is capable of handling at the moment, and she's just about to put back the phone when it comes to life, ringing; she almost drops it, uttering an expletive.

Steven; talk about bad timing! "Yes, Steven?" She listens to the voice, sighs, then smiles quickly. "No I did not call a doctor, why on earth would I do that?!" She listens again, then cuts him off. "Listen dear, I'm a big girl, and what happened at the mall was nothing to worry about. Like I said, I just felt unwell. Now, drop it, you hear?" Steven isn't happy, she can tell, but to be honest she simply doesn't care right now. "I said 'drop it', Steven! Look, I have some other business to attend to, I'll call you either this evening or tomorrow. Bye."

And with that she pushes the disconnect button.

* * *

Steve looks at the phone in his hand. What is it about his mother that always seems to set his nerves on edge?! He roughly shoves the phone down in his pocket, frowning as he thinks back to the incident at the mall this morning.

"Steve?" Danny is standing in the doorway. "Ahh, sorry, did I interrupt something? If so I can ..." Danny half turns, pointing his finger towards Chin and Kono.

"No, it's OK." Steve quickly rubs his eyes as if to erase his thoughts that way.

"You sure? I mean, is there a problem?" Danny walks towards his friend, looks at him closely: "There's a problem. What ... Mary? Us, the team? Pesky suspects who won't stand still when you come at them like a berserker? Life in general?"

Steve shakes his head, half smiling, but not really in the mood to talk about it; however, he knows Danny won't let up until he knows the whole story. So he tells him what happened with Doris.

"Oh, wow! Well, look at it this way, you've had your first taste of what's to come when she gets older." Steve lifts an eyebrow and Danny continues. "You know, like, helping her eat, change her clothes, change her dia..." Steve lifts a warning finger and Danny happily grins at him. "Come on, she's your mother!"

Steve shakes his head, then plunks down in his chair. "That's just it, Danny. She is and she isn't. The woman I know as my mother has nothing to do with who I brought back from Japan. And she lied to me!"

Danny leans back and holds out his hands: "Jeez, Steve, she does that all the time! And you know she did that to pro.."

Steve interrupts him. "Damn it, Danny, I know about her wanting to protect us. That's not what I meant. I mean this morning when she told me she was feeling unwell. She lied about that." Steve sighs as Danny stares at him. "Don't you get it? If she lied about that, then what's so bad she can't share it? What scared her? What secret does she have _this_ time?!"

Danny runs a hand over his hair, slicking it back. "Well, did you ask?" Steve just looks at him. "Of course you did, probably in that sweet, endearing manner of yours that makes people feel like you're interrogating them about a murder."

"Wha.."

Danny holds out his hands to stop him. "No, no, c'mon on now, you know very well what I mean! There's the rules of interrogation in the real world, and then there's the McGarrett method. You, my friend, could make Frank Sinatra confess he was behind the disappearance of Glenn Miller during WWII simply because he was jealous! Or ..." Steve can see Danny is on a roll now. "... or actually get Mother Theresa to admit she was the Grassy Knoll Shooter!"

Steve let's his head sink to his desk as he raises his hand to stop Danny. "Enough, Danny! Stop it, you're being ridiculous!"

"Really? Well, let me ..."

"No Danny, I won't let you." Steve gets up from his chair. "Come on, let's go talk to Chin and Kono. We need to get some work done before I fly out to San Diego tomorrow." He walks around the desk and thumps Danny on the shoulder as he walks past him.

"There! That's what I mean! What's with that?!" Danny rubs his shoulder as he follows Steve out of the room. "Damn macho!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doris obviously has an interest in Matt, and as she wants Joe White's help in this - like she did with 'Shelburne' - it most likely has to do with the CIA. Poor Steve; his mother has another secret.


	4. The LAPD meets Five-0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two detectives from Los Angeles are meeting the team from Five-0 so they can track down Brody.   
> Things are becoming 'a little tense' ...

It's Chin Ho Kelly who welcomes the two LAPD detectives to Five-0 HQ on Monday afternoon. He is showing the two men around, having just introduced them to Kono and Lou, when Steve and Joe White come out of Steve's office. Steve never misses an opportunity to grill Joe on the finer details of his mother's CIA past whenever the older man shows up on the island, and Joe never fails to evade most of the questions.

This time Steve has also tried to extract information from Joe regarding the incident at Kahala Mall, but judging by the look on Steve's face, and the little smile on that of Joe, the latter has managed to give him the runaround yet again.

"Well, thanks for nothing, Joe."

The smile on Joe's face broadens. "You're absolutely welcome, son" he says, clapping Steve on the back.

At the sound of Steve's voice, Matt seems to freeze before slowly turning around; Gabriel thinks he can actually see the hairs on the back of the man's neck stand up. _Well, that's interesting_ , he thinks as he watches his partner seize up the Five-0 boss. When he switches his focus from Matt to the other man, he thinks he can better understand Matt's reaction. It's probably something akin to that of two male predators encroaching on each others territory; all about hormones and alpha-status syndrome. Both men are seizing each other up, and the room almost hums from the tension between them.

"One of them is going to start marking off his territory in a minute" Chin quietly speaks from behind him, and Gabriel barely manages to keep himself from laughing out loud as his mind burps up an image of Matt taking a piss against the large PC table. He hears the other man and woman behind him chuckle as well; they all obviously entertain similar visions.

Joe, who is just about to leave when he senses something isn't quite right, is looking at the two men like a biologist studying an interesting specimen under a magnifying glass. He takes in Matt's rapid heartbeat, the nervous quick swallowing, and doesn't skip a beat in picking up Steve's unconscious response, the tightening of his muscles. He knows this is more than just a 'male thing'; for some reason, both men are reacting as if they have been unexpectedly dropped into an unknown combat situation. He's just about to scrape his throat, trying to break the hypnotic impasse, when Danny walks in.

"Hey Steve, I've got ..." He stops, both in mid-sentence and mid stride. His boss and friend is facing a slightly taller, muscular man dressed in a flannel shirt, jeans and boots. Danny spots a weapon partially visible underneath the shirt, then notices another unfamiliar individual near the PC table, standing close to the rest of his team. "Did I miss something? Have I time warped and ended up in Tombstone? Is this the O.K. Corral?" he asks, his words breaking the spell.

Steve coughs, runs a hand over his face and magically conjures up a goofy smile. "Man ... OK, this is awkward."

Matt also manages to regain control over himself; he lets out a sigh and lifts one corner of his mouth in an attempted smile. "End of the day, I guess; we're all tired."

Steve walks up to Matt, sticks out his hand. "Welcome to Five-0. I'm Steve McGarrett. I take it you're Detective Sterling?"

Matt nods as he accepts the other man's hand. "Yeah, and that" he indicates Gabriel standing behind him, "is my partner, Detective Gabriel Martinez."

Gabriel nods at Steve.

"Hi, and welcome." Steve releases Matt's hand, mentally filing away the fact that the man has a powerful grip. "You've met everybody except these two, I guess. This is Detective Daniel Williams, my second-in-command." Steve points at Danny who lifts up a hand, then moves over to join the others. "And this" Steve puts a hand on Joe's shoulder, "this is Lieutenant Commander Joseph White, retired."

Matt shakes Joe's hand, and immediately notes the fact that the man is very fit for his age, which Matt guesses to be above instead of below sixty. He therefor has probably seen active service, is no ordinary desk jockey. He looks into the man's calm, steel-blue eyes and can't help himself for immediately liking him.

Joe, for his part, doesn't quite know what to make of the big man holding his hand. He scrutinizes the dark eyes, which are almost level with his own; takes in the high cheekbones, the strong jawline covered by an almost completely gray stubble. He has the feeling that he knows this man. He just for the life of him can't remember where he's seen him before.

Introductions over and done with, Steve and Matt sit down at the conference table to discuss the higher echelon details of the investigation, while the rest of the team and Gabriel group around the PC table to discuss all the information that has been filed away, and see whether they can find more links to it all.

Joe sticks around for a while under the pretext that he's interested in the case; in actual fact he remains to observe Matt. His deliberate moves; his questions, stripped bare of any social graces so all that remains is purpose and intent; his skill at dissecting answers and extract only that which is of use; he knows all this, recognizes it. But from what, or where?

After half an hour he says his goodbyes, having come to the conclusion that what he sees and recognizes in Matt is something identical to Steve; it can only mean that Matt has not only seen active duty, but must've had a commanding position at that. The man just oozes leadership, brooks no opposition. Joe decides he will look into the man's past to find out more.

Just before he leaves he tells Steve to call him if he has any further questions. "Never mind the questions, Joe" Steve answers, half-jokingly, half-serious. "Why don't you call me for a change, like when you have answers." Joe winks, then walks out. Matt throws Steve an inquisitive look. "Never mind; long story and no happy ending."

When the day winds down without any real results, they decide to meet again the next morning.

* * *

When Gabriel sees Matt walking into Five-0 HQ the next morning he knows his friend is what he jokingly calls an Ouch Grouch; his mouth is set in a grim line, there are dark circles underneath his eyes, he exhibits a slight but noticeable limp, and he hasn't bothered to shave. Again.

Sighing, Gabriel falls into step with his partner and friend. "Devils chasing you again last night, Matt?" A barely audible grunt warns Gabriel not to pursue the matter, and by now he knows better than to try otherwise.

The others quickly pick up on the fact that Detective Sterling is not in an amicable mood. Questions are answered with less than two syllables, he broodingly stares at files and computer screens, and when Steve asks him if there's a problem, Matt growls "No".

Additionally, both Matt and Steve are used to being in control, and Matt - even though he logically knows he doesn't have authority here - seems loath to relinquish the reigns. His concern about Gabriel's well-being, inextricably tied to the investigation into Brody and his alter ego, makes him even less patient.

"I always thought my boss was a socially awkward critter" Danny whispers to Gabriel, "but yours ... Is he always this charming and full of good humor?"

Gabriel grins. "Those words never did make it into his dictionary I think; nor did 'patience' for that matter." He continues more seriously: "Today is definitely not one of his best, though. Legacy of a war."

Danny groans, crossing his arms as if to comfort himself. "Well, that's just great. That's exactly what we need around here; another macho ex-soldier with impeccable social skills. Tell me: does he also kill first and ask questions later?"

Gabriel laughs out loud, drawing the stares of the two men they were discussing.

"Care to share the joke, Gabe?" Matt asks, raising an eyebrow.

"It's nothing, Matt; Detective Williams" Gabriel waves a hand at Danny, "and I were just trying to find out which one of our bosses is the more uptight." While Kono seems somewhat shocked, Chin grins and Lou even laughs out loud; but Danny furiously glares at the dark-haired detective standing next to him.

Steve and Matt look at each other, shrug, and then Steve walks into his office, asking Matt to join him.

* * *

Gabriel is talking to Danny when his phone rings. He looks at the unknown number, frowns and then answers. "Detective Martinez."

"Hey boyo, hows the craic?" The voice with the heavy Irish accent sounds cheerful. "Now don't be troubling yourself trying to trace this, I won't be long."

Gabriel sways on his feet, feeling like the ground has suddenly disappeared beneath him and he's now suspended above a black, gaping abyss. He vaguely hears concerned voices call out, feels hands grabbing him, supporting him as a chair is quickly placed underneath him. Matt's face appears just in front of him, mouthing _Brody_. Gabriel nods, and hears McGarrett hurriedly give an order.

He senses what's happening but the awareness of it all is being forcibly pushed aside by the voice continuing to talk to him. "Who all's there; your guard shams? Your cop buddies?" Brody's quiet for a second, then continues in a low, menacing voice: "Do they know you're a right little squaler, Gabriel?"

Gabriel hisses through his teeth. "Hey _leva_ , you coward; we're coming to get you!" He hears commotion around him but again it's Brody's voice that demands all his attention, bundles it into one vocal point.

"Coming to get me? No Gabriel, you have that all wrong. It's _us_ coming to get _you_! You know what we say in Ireland, Gabriel. _May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you are going, and the insight to know when you have gone too far._ And you, my friend, have gone too far. It's all about to go arseways on you!" Then Brody is gone.

Gabriel stares at the phone in his hand, and then starts to shake. Two strong hands grab him, and he knows it's Matt; he's now shaking so uncontrollably that the phone falls from his hand and Matt is the only reason he's still sitting on his chair. His heart is racing, feeling like it's about to explode out of his chest; his breath is coming in short gasps and things are starting to become fuzzy. "Panic attack" he hears Steve say.

Matt's hold on him is like an anchor, preventing him from drifting off onto an ocean of anxiousness and fear; it keeps him from becoming lost in a vastness from which he knows not how to escape.

"Easy does it, Gabe; come on, try taking deep breaths. This will be over in a couple of minutes, you know it will." Matt's soothing, calm voice is having effect; it prevents him from slipping further down into the abyss, and moments later Gabriel feels his heart rate begin to slow down.

He's had these attacks before, right after his cover with the Big Hazard was blown.

It doesn't take long before he becomes aware of faces looking at him in concern, Matt's one closest to him. Danny waves at him from across the table. "Hi, and welcome back, my friend."

Gabriel manages a wan smile. "Say it like you mean it, Williams."

Danny stands back. "Oh well, let me put it another way than; welcome back, person slightly less annoying than two other people whose names we won't mention."

"All right Danny; cut the crap" Steve says. "Chin, did you get a fix on that phone?"

Chin shakes his head. "No traceable number, Steve; not enough time. What I did get" and he swipes an image from the PC table onto one of the screens, "are the cell towers the call bounced off; the last one near Kaumala Ridge. No more signal after that, I'm afraid."

Steve frowns. "Kaumala Ridge, that's near North Shore."

Danny flips through some papers. "There's nothing in here that would suggest any contacts he may have there. No known gang activity of late either, no drug busts ..."

Matt looks at the screen, then at Gabriel. "Gabe, is there anything about the call that stood out, that was remarkable? Anything at all?"

Gabriel swallows, giving his partner a thin smile. "You mean other than terrifying the crap out of me?" Matt doesn't return his smile. "OK, look, let me think. Ehm ... strong Irish accent, used what I presume to be Irish colloquialisms; asked if there were more cops here, so heard voices ..." He's ticking of facts, thinking out loud. "... possibly more voices, but hard to hear because of the humming; birds, I heard birds, seagulls I think; then there was the sound of ..."

"Seagulls?" asks Chin, interrupting him. "Now that's interesting."

Steve is about to say something when he's stopped by Joe, who is walking towards them. "I wouldn't concentrate on just the birds if I were you." They look at the older man, who stops and leans against the wall.

"What the hell are you doing here, Joe?" asks Steve, slightly annoyed.

Joe ignores him, looks at Gabriel. "You OK, son? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Gabriel nods, still coming down from the tornado of emotions which engulfed him less than twenty minutes ago.

"For crying out loud, Joe, what the hell do you mean with we shouldn't concentrate on the seagulls?!" Steve stands right in front of Joe, obviously demanding an answer.

"Well, son, if you take the fact that the last cell tower was near Kaumala Ridge, figure in the seagulls and add that to something nobody here apparently heard - namely the fact that this young man here talked about a 'humming' sound - all I can think of is the aquaponic farms over at the Northeast side."

Steve looks at him. "The pumps, son. The pumps."

It takes Steve less than ten minutes to organize helicopters to fly them and a SWAT team out there, another two minutes to arrange back-up and transport waiting for them at the Kahuku Fire and Police Station Heliport, and less than five to set up Joe and the two LAPD detectives with protective gear.

Gabriel is adamant about joining them, the fear in his body now replaced with pure adrenaline at the thought of Brody finally being caught.

Within an hour after Brody's phone call, the LAPD and Five-0 are en-route to North Shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Matt are like two captains on one ship; let's hope they don't tear the thing in half by wanting to steer in opposite directions!  
> Is Joe right about Matt reminding him of Steve because of similar backgrounds? Or is it possible he has met him before?  
> I think it may be time to fasten your seat belts ...


	5. That slippery Irish skip-devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't exactly going well, in more ways than one.  
> And who ordered HQ to be redecorated?!

They're back at Five-0 HQ, and to say the operation was a disaster is to make the understatement of the century.

It seemed to go perfect at first. Intelligence as well as feedback from locals, combined with the fact that engineers of the Kahuku Wind project had reported 'unusual activity' the last week or so, had quickly pointed towards the abandoned Marconi Station on Marconi Road as Brody's most likely hideout.

The old powerhouse, which used to house the generators, was now in use as a krill breeding farm, and the circulation pumps made a loud humming noise. Combined with that of the nearby wind turbines, it produced a sound which Gabriel recognized immediately.

They approached the site from all directions, and just as Steve was about to give the _GO!_ signal, the bust seemed to go tits-up. One young and inexperienced HPD officer's gear got caught on a post as he was climbing over a fence, causing him to tumble head-first to the ground; as he had his finger on his weapon's trigger, he accidentally squeezed as he went down, nearly killing a colleague next to him. The sound of the shot was all the warning Brody needed.

As mayhem erupted, the HPD officers seemed to be confused as to whom to listen to for instructions; an order by Steve appeared to be countered by Matt, while SWAT seemed to turn to Lou out of sheer habit. By the time they got their heads back on straight, Brody had slipped through the net. He managed to hide behind another building, then duck into a civilian's 4x4 truck parked near the old runway, its keys still in the ignition.

Barreling off the runway he hit an old road, backed around to Marconi Road again, and before the first cars had been pointed in the right direction so they could give chase, Brody steered the 4x4 off the road and disappeared somewhere near Punamanõ Spring. It was nearly impossible to follow his trail in those wetlands, and he had again managed to evade arrest. The 4x4 was recovered at the outer edge of the wildlife refuge, near the Turtle Bay golf course. The Irishman had done his magic trick again.

Steve cursed the decision not to fly in, as a helicopter would've been able to track Brody. He stalked away, murder in his eyes, a nervous Danny at his heels while Joe tried calming him down. Gabriel, stunned and utterly dismayed at the fact that Brody had managed to slip away again, tried to reason with a furious Matt, who swore he would break the Five-0 Commander's neck as soon as he could wrap his hands around it.

"Matt, come on; the guy couldn't help it that one of those cops fucked up. His plan was sound, man. Williams told me he's good at what he does, being an ex SEAL ..."

Matt came to a dead halt, whipped around and glared at Gabriel. "SEAL? The guy's a fucking _SEAL_?! No wonder this went south!" He started walking towards the cars parked on Marconi Road again.

Gabriel hurried after him. "What do you mean? SEALs are the best ..."

Matt stopped again, causing Gabriel to almost run into him. "Gabe, not another word on how fucking fantastic these guys are! I've seen them cock up OPS in Iraq just because they themselves think they're the best of the best. They're _not_ , OK? I swear the word 'SEAL' is spelled completely with I's!"

Joe's quiet voice startled them both. "I don't agree with you there, son."

Matt looked at the older man; things clicked in his mind. "Let me guess: another ex SEAL" he sighed.

Joe nodded. "We make mistakes, son, no doubt about that. And I have the feeling you have some personal experience with that." Matt remained silent, not forwarding any information. Joe sighed. "Look, this is frustrating, I know. I think our best bet is to return to HQ and try to come up with a new plan." He smiled at Gabriel, then walked off towards the Five-0 team.

* * *

The team is extremely frustrated; Joe has begged out for an hour to see if he can get some information from his own sources, Matt is on the phone with LAPD to update them on their lack of progress, and the rest is hanging around the PC and conference table. They're exhausted, depressed and waiting for new orders from Steve.

Steve has just gotten off the phone with the local Kahuku police commander; he has been yelling at the man for almost fifteen minutes straight. "That guy won't be able to sit down for a month, the way Steve just chewed off his ass" mumbles Chin.

Danny nods. "That other ray of sunshine" he says, nodding at Matt using his office to call to LA, "seems to have problems finding his Happy-button as well."

Gabriel scrapes his throat. "Well, we have been chasing this guy for a while now, and I don't think we've been this close for a long time."

Kono looks up from where she's sitting at the table. "How are you holding up, Gabriel?"

He smiles at her. "I'm doing OK, Kono. Thanks for asking."

Matt comes slamming out of Danny's office at almost the same moment as Steve comes stomping out of his. Danny is about to comment on how he prefers to keep his door in one piece, when Matt says something to Steve which makes him swallow his words.

* * *

" _What_ did you say?!" Steve's hazel eyes, shooting sparks with fury, are locked with the brown eyes of the man staring back at him; he feels a white, hot rage coursing through his body. "Did you just imply ..."

"I said: if you weren't such a dick about being in control, we would've had Brody." Matt sounds deceptively calm, but inside he's boiling.

Danny hasn't seen Steve this angry in a long time, knows how dangerous he can be when provoked this far outside his comfort zone; he's amazed at how the other man manages to ignore his already simmering anger and just gleefully keeps pushing his buttons. Both men are completely tensed, seizing each other up like two male wolves ready to battle it out.

"Think we should break them up?" asks Chin, not taking his eyes of them.

Gabriel shakes his head, and Kono utters a short little laugh. "Break them up? Cuz, you feeling suicidal?!"

She's right; nobody in their right mind would want to step between the two of them and expect to come out in one piece.

But Danny decides he's going to try; he's not particularly keen on letting this evolve any further. "Now come on, kids, let's stop right there," he quips, as he walks up to the men. "Play time is over, let's go get some milk and cookies." As he speaks he places his hand on Matt's left arm in order to pull him back, trying to break them up.

He hears Gabriel utter a loud "No, don't!" but before he can figure out whether it's directed at him or someone else, he feels himself flying through the air; his back connects with a couch against an office wall and his breath is punched out of his lungs. The next moment all hell breaks loose.

While Matt is still half turned after having thrown Danny, Steve dives forward and grabs him around his waist. The men slam back into the door of Chin's office, shattering the glass as they fall through.

" _Aiâ_!" exclaims Kono, shocked, her hand going to her mouth.

"Of course" says Chin dryly, "it had to be my office."

Danny scrambles to his feet and sees the two men grappling for control while engaged in a fierce ground battle. What he notices most, besides his lungs painfully gasping for air, is the fact that the only sounds he hears are short grunts.

Steve gains the upper hand, but right after his fist connects with Matt's jaw, he is lifted up and thrown against the desk. Chin hisses at the sound of more glass breaking, Lou even utters a sympathetic "Oowwww!" They see Matt dive towards Steve, can actually hear the head-butt to Steve's chin, and then they're rolling over the floor again.

At some point Steve manages to clamber up, but when he tries to deliver a kick to Matt's ribs, the latter grabs his leg, twists it and drops his full weight on Steve's back as soon as he's down again. It's obvious to the breathless onlookers that the two are almost evenly matched, Steve's agility countering Matt's advantage of outweighing him.

"What in _God_ 's name is going on here!"

Danny turns to see Joe standing behind him. Gabriel, causally leaning against the door post of Chin's now half destroyed office, moves to let him past. Joe is starting towards the men, seemingly intend to try and break up the fight.

"I actually wouldn't do that if I were you" cautions Danny, holding up a hand, but Joe quickly moves past him; just as Matt lands a punch to Steve's abdomen, Joe's right hand snaps out and makes a resounding * **slap** * as it first connects with Steve's, and then Matt's face.

It happens too quick for the men to prevent it, and the fight is over immediately; both men have an almost comical, astonished look on their face, both holding a hand to their cheek. Gabriel laughs out loud as the rest of them chuckles.

Steve has a large lump on his chin, Matt is sporting a fast developing bruise on his jaw, and both men have several bleeding cuts from going through the glass.

"Thanks for redecorating my office, guys" says Chin, as he holds out a hand to Steve to pull him off the floor.

Matt has already gotten to his feet, staring hard at Joe.

"Don't look at me like that" Joe says, matching his stare, then turns towards Steve as the latter indignantly exclaims: "You fucking _slapped_ me, Joe!"

"Well, son, if you behave like little boys, you can expect to be treated as such." Joe looks from Matt to Steve and back again. "Now what the hell brought that on?!"

Steve is still panting, doubled over with his hands on his legs. "Shithead here" he says, nodding at Matt, "implied we lost our suspect because I'm a control freak."

Matt, his eyes trying to burn a hole in the other man, growls: "Because it's the truth, asshole! If you hadn't insisted in Five-0 taking control instead of making it a joined effort, if you had allowed separate teams with separate leaders, we would've had him!"

Furious at the failed arrest attempt, he continues: "You fucking SEALs are all the same! Egos the size of a zeppelin, and just as full of hot air!" He sees Joe frowning at him. "Almost all of you, anyways."

"Well," says Danny, shoving his hands into his pockets while he looks at Steve, "we're all very fond of you and all that, but he's actually right."

Steve shoots an incredulous look at Danny, who holds up a hand. "Now, I'm not saying we lost Brody because of you, but you do have ego issues. And you definitely have control issues; I bet your underwear goes in the laundry as squeaky clean as it comes out."

"Wha ... c'mon on, Danny!" Steve sounds indignant while a slow smile is creeping onto Matt's face. "You're taking _his_ side in this?!"

Danny shakes his head. "Actually, no. I have a better sense of self-preservation than to be stupid enough to take the side of either one of you crazed ex-military men in any matter that has you two facing off. The ass-whooping already seems to be part of my job description; I'm not going to voluntarily apply for more."

"And thank you, by the way," he continues, now looking at Gabriel, "for that timely warning not to intervene; you couldn't have done that a little sooner, like say, before I was thrown into a couch?!" Gabriel grins at him, not even attempting to apologize. Danny throws him a disgusted look.

* * *

"Ouch! Hey, careful!" Steve yanks his arm away from Kono, who is busily applying iodine and bandages to the numerous small cuts resulting from the glass door.

"Don't be such a wuss, boss. I've seen small kids bearing this better than you do." She frowns at him, then starts working on the arm again.

They're sitting on the couch in Steve's office, while Joe and Danny are in the two chairs at Steve's desk. "Have you any idea what to do next, in order to catch this guy?" asks Joe. He looks at Steve, but there's no response.

Instead, the Five-0 Commander seems to be glaring at something over Danny's shoulder. When Joe and Danny turn to look, they see Matt sitting at the conference table, swatting at Gabriel's hands as he tries to peek underneath the flannel shirt.

Danny scrapes his throat. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you're not really fond of our visitors from LA. Or at least have some reservations about one of them."

Steve's eyes now lock onto Danny. "You think?"

Joe laughs. "I swear, you're still acting like a little kid!" He seems totally oblivious to the hateful look Steve sends his way. "Funny thing is, Matt seems to feel the same way about you. Now why is that?"

Danny gets up, blocking Steve's view of Matt. "I'd say there's a simple answer to that. Two ex-military men, both pigheaded." Steve throws a warning look at Danny, but he ignores him. "Both very fond of playing G.I. Joe, both singularly obsessed with everything and everybody who stands in their way. I'd say it's a match made in heaven."

Joe sighs. "Whatever the issue between the two of you, get over it. I think the prime objective should be to get this Brody guy." He looks at Steve. "I managed to get some intel on him, and let me tell you Steve, you do not want this man to set up shop on the island. He's above and beyond other drug lords. This one is an exceptional nasty, mean piece of work."

Kono lightly slaps Steve on his shoulder. "All done, boss. Good as new."

Danny huffs. "He'll never be as good as new anymore, Kono. His warranty has expired years and years ago, nobody will trade him in anymore."

Steve is about to reply when they hear a phone ring. As they look through the glass, they see Gabriel freeze. It's his phone.

* * *

Matt gets up and puts his hand on Gabriel's shoulder, as he's staring at the ringing phone in his hand. "Stay calm, Gabriel. You know what to expect now." Matt sees Steve quickly walk up to Chin, hears him giving an order to get a trace on the phone. "Already on it, boss."

Joe walks towards Gabriel and Matt, gently pushes Gabriel down onto a chair and then nods. "Go ahead, Gabe" says Matt. "Answer the thing."

Gabriel does. "Martinez."

"Fair play, boyo! You all actually had me legging it; it's been yonks since that happened."

Brody almost sounds impressed. Gabriel nearly gets pulled in by that mesmerizing voice again, but this time he manages to keep his wits about him. He decides to try and buy Chin some time. "So who am I talking to; Cahan Brody, or Kevin Dolan?"

It's quiet on the other side, then the voice comes back, low and threatening. "You're a regular wanker, Gabriel! Think I'm thick?"

Gabriel swallows. "Just stop playing the maggot, I know you're trying to pinpoint me location."

Suddenly Brody's heavy Irish brogue switches to a nondescript American accent. "And for that matter, pinpoint all you want, detective; I actually welcome it. We still have unfinished business to take care of with you. It's so much easier if you just walk right up to us!"

Gabriel feels a tremor starting in his body. "You'll never be able to get to me!" he hisses. He feels Matt place a comforting hand on his shoulder, reassuring him.

But Brody's next words nearly make him lose all control. "Oh, but we _will_. You know, it's not just me you have to watch out for." The lack of a response causes Brody to laugh, and his Irish accent is back. "Gob-smacked, are you? You really thought I was the only one that got tired of your slagging? You've been on the doss long enough, Gabriel. Time to set things right." And with that, he's gone.

Gabriel takes a deep breath, this time able to keep himself under control. He looks up, white-faced. "Did we get him now? Do we know where he's at?"

Chin does some quick calculations on the main PC frame, then swipes a map over to one of the three hanging screens. "Yes, we do."

They all look at the screen before Steve turns to Matt and Gabriel. "We got him. He's at Kai Docks, less than twenty minutes from here. Let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt doesn't seem to be too impressed by Steve's SEAL past, and apparently he has his reasons.  
> I wonder if they manage to catch Brody this time ...


	6. Brody: there and gone again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no time for Steve and Matt to nurse their bruised egos and other assorted body parts; Brody is really giving them a run for their money.  
> And remember: he still is a very dangerous man to deal with.

It seems Brody is true to his word about wanting to be found.

This time around, Chin manages to keep a lock on his phone's signal while they're speeding towards Kai Docks. They've just passed Niu Peninsula when Chin notices the signal is moving.

"He's on the move, boss; looks like he's heading back towards Kalanianaole Highway."

Danny acknowledges the info while Steve speeds up even more; Kono and Chin are right behind them, followed by Lou with Matt and Gabriel. Joe is riding along with Steve and Danny.

As they pass Maunalua Bay Beach Park, they see a battered black pick-up turn onto Keahole Street with screeching tires; it's fishtailing as the excessive speed nearly causes the driver to lose control.

"That's him!" shouts Chin, checking the signal, and Steve follows in hot pursuit.

* * *

They've just sped over the water of Kai Marina when Brody's black pick-up hooks a sharp right into the parking area of the Kai Shopping Center. Not slowing down, he speeds right across the parking lot, narrowly missing an elderly couple and making people jump for their lives.

" _Jesus_!" screams Danny, as the car in front of them clips a woman pushing a baby in a stroller, throwing her to the side. Steve swerves around and hits the brakes. "Go on, we've got this" they hear Chin's voice coming from the car behind them. "If I get my hands on that asshole before the guys from LA do, I'm going to tear his head off!" Danny bites his fist in frustration as Steve drives on.

The pick-up continues to race straight ahead, Steve hot on its tail, then screeches to a halt when palm trees prevent it from driving right onto the pedestrians walkway. Brody pops out of the driver's side, and as Steve and the other jump out, they catch a glimpse of a bearded face with ice-blue eyes staring back at them before the lanky figure runs towards the buildings ahead of him.

"He's headed for the Island Brew" yells Danny back over his shoulder to Chin, as they watch him enter the coffee house. "Let's go around; if we go straight in there may be civilian casualties, and this way we may catch him by surprise" urges Steve, and he starts running towards the restaurant at the opposite corner, Danny and Joe on his heels.

In the meantime, Kono and Chin are providing first aid to the hapless young mother. The baby is screaming like a banshee when Kono carefully looks it over in its overturned stroller, but it appears to be unharmed. The mother, however, has obviously suffered a broken leg. Chin phones in for an ambulance, then tries to make the young woman as comfortable as possible.

"You guys go ahead, back-up Steve and Danny" Chin hurriedly tells Lou. "Emergency Services will be here in less than five, then we'll come and join you." Lou nods, catching sight of Steve and the others as they run around the corner towards the edge of the water behind the shops.

"Come on, we might be able to corner Brody if we go around the other way" he tells Matt and Gabriel, then starts running along Longs Drug store. When they hit the corner end of the buildings, Lou leads them onto a small stone pathway along the water's edge. When he nearly slips, Matt is there to keep him out of the water. As he steadies the large man, Gabriel slips by them on the path, making his way towards the end.

* * *

Steve and the others are cautiously advancing over the patios of the restaurants on the water, motioning to the guests to go inside. Just as Chin and Kono join them, they see Brody pop out of the side entrance of the coffee house. As he spots the Five-0 team, he races across the pedestrian walkway and ducks into a sheltered store entrance, shooting over his shoulder as he goes.

Steve is just about to lower himself off the wooden patio deck onto the grass when he sees movement out of the corner of his left eye; it's Gabriel, coming up the stone walkway along the water, Matt and Lou close on his heels. He is going around a white fence, intent on making his way towards the coffee house Brody stormed into minutes ago, keeping his weapon aimed at the open doors behind the patio.

Steve points and screams, trying to warn him, but it's too late.

Brody pops out from behind the wall, aims, and shoots three times in quick succession. But it's not Gabriel he hits.

Matt, hearing Steve's warning, leaps over the fence and slams into Gabriel, shoving him out of harms' way. As Gabriel tumbles headlong onto the concrete, the first bullet strikes Matt's vest. The impact causes him to lose balance, and he steps back, his legs coming up against the fence behind him. The second bullet hits his left shoulder, immediately followed by the third, which glances off his skull.

He's unconscious as he tumbles backwards over the fence into the water.

" _Shit_ ! Cover me!" Steve screams as he spurts towards the little dock at the water's edge, running at full speed. Despite the rapid fire laid down by his colleagues he feels the hot sting of a bullet grazing his upper leg; he refuses to let it slow him down, or take the time to take off his vest and gun; he dives straight in and, while still under water, swims towards the spot he saw Matt go in.

The water is shallow, just over his head, but also muddy and restricting his view. He gropes around, silently uttering expletives; he needs to find Matt quickly if he wants to save him. Turning around he starts searching closer to the wall, and suddenly he feels something with his left hand. He grabs onto it, reaches out with his right hand and touches a face. Quickly he hooks his arm around Matt's neck, pushes off with his feet and breaks the surface.

Grabbing Matt by the back of his vest it takes just a few powerful one-armed strokes and leg kicks to reach the small dock where Chin, Gabriel and Danny are holding out their arms towards him. Gabriel, white-faced, grabs Matt's vest with two hands, and together with Chin and Danny hauls him onto the dock. Steve pushes himself out of the water, and he watches as Matt is turned onto his back, his bleeding head rolling lifelessly to the side.

Gabriel puts his ear to Matt's mouth, then frantically starts giving him CPR. "No no," shouts Steve, "mouth-to-mouth. You start with mouth-to-mouth in drowning victims, they need oxygen!" Gabriel stares at Steve, as if he doesn't comprehend. Danny quickly pushes Gabriel out of the way, puts a finger in Matt's mouth to clear out any debris and starts giving him the 'kiss of life'.

Chin meanwhile is holding a very upset Gabriel back by the shoulders. "He's not breathing! He saved my life and now he's shot and he's not breathing!" Sounding nearly hysterical, Gabriel stares wide-eyed at Matt, who's still not showing any signs of life. Chin tries to calm him down. "He's strong, brah. If anyone can make it, he can; he's got a good chance."

Steve watches Danny desperately trying to breath life into the man lying on the dock. _Come on, dammit!_ he silently swears at Matt.

Just then Joe and Lou appear around the corner of the coffee house. They run across the grass and onto the dock. Lou bends down next to Danny, who's still working on Matt. Joe spots blood pooling underneath Steve's leg and walks over to him.

"We went after Brody but he gave us the slip; jumped into that pick-up and just took off." He looks back towards Matt, then back at Steve again, pointing at his leg. "You OK there, Steve?"

Steve looks down; the bullet has grazed him, nothing more. He takes off his vest, then his t-shirt and uses it to apply pressure to the wound. "I'll be fine, don't worry. We've got to put an APB out on Brody's car." Joe nods. "Lou already took care of that, but I doubt Brody will be in the car when they find it. We wounded him, BTW; we found blood."

Steve is temporarily distracted by the curious customers of the different shops, now coming out to look at the scene by the water. He looks back at Danny, still busily working on Matt. "How long was he under?" asks Joe, and Steve is about to answer when Matt suddenly starts spewing up water and vomit, narrowly missing Danny's mouth.

"OK, I could've done without that. That's, that's just disgusting!" exclaims Danny while he and Lou quickly turn Matt onto his side. He coughs and hacks up more water and vomit, then draws in ragged breaths. Steve gets up, gingerly puts his weight on his injured leg, and then hobbles over, Joe supporting him. Gabriel is literally crying with relief; he leans over and reaches out his hand to touch Matt's cheek, whispering something in Spanish.

They're taking off Matt's vest and t-shirt to check the extend of his injuries. There's a large developing bruise on his chest where the first bullet has struck his vest. Right underneath his collar bone there's a dark, oozing hole. They check for an exit wound but fail to find one; the bullet is still inside. Matt groans as they carefully put him on his back again.

"Just apply pressure, use his shirt," advices Steve.

Matt mumbles something which is lost on most of them; Danny leans in closer to listen, then nods. Matt coughs, then mumbles again. Danny jerks upright and turns to Steve, a mix of disgust and exasperation showing on his face.

"What?" Steve asks impatiently.

"This man is officially nuts! No, scratch that; nuts doesn't even begin to cover it. Nuts is for squirrels. This man needs urgent psychiatric help!"

Matt starts chuckling, stops to groan, then starts chuckling again. "What did he say?" asks Chin. "He said that, now that we've kissed, we might as well go out on a date together!" Steve throws his head back and laughs out loud, joined by the others.

Matt is still chuckling and groaning as Danny angrily rips his t-shirt in two and uses both hands to apply pressure to the bullet wound in his shoulder.

Matt hisses through his teeth. "Careful, darling, careful!"

Danny stares at him in disgust, then looks at Steve. "You know? One of you, just one of you I could handle. Barely, but I could handle it. However, two of you? Because I swear, this man" and he indicates Matt with a nod of his head, "is just as far removed from the point of normalcy on a mental health scale as that one!" And he nods at Steve.

Just then Kono tells them the ambulance has arrived.

* * *

They're waiting at the hospital for news on Matt.

The bullet in his shoulder has apparently nicked the top of his lung, and on the ride over Matt develops breathing problems. He is prepped and in surgery within twenty minutes of arriving, and they have been working on him for the last three hours.

Steve has used the time to have his leg looked at; it requires nothing more than a good cleaning and fresh bandages. He will be sore for quite a while, but he'll live.

They still don't know whether Matt will, though.

It's exacting a heavy toll on Gabriel's sanity; he sits hunched over, his head in his hands, flanked on either side by Joe and Steve. Kono has gone to check up on the condition of the young woman and her baby who got hit by Brody's car; Chin, Lou and Danny are back at HQ, working the case.

All Gabriel can think about is that Matt might now die from a bullet which was meant for him. It fills him with guilt. It's obvious to both Steve and Joe what's going on in the man's head. Joe at one point puts his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "You know, you can beat yourself up all you want, but it's not going to change anything."

Gabriel looks up. "What I mean, son, is that it's no use trying to figure out different scenarios." Steve lifts an eyebrow. "Yes, but if ..." says Gabriel but is stopped by Joe, holding up a hand. "That's exactly what I mean. What if. That's all theories, son; this is reality. And the reality is that Matt got shot, and you didn't. And it's no use beating yourself up over it, because it will _not_ change reality."

Gabriel looks at the older man, and he understands what he means. "You're right. Like worrying over a problem you can't solve." Joe nods. "It takes a lot of your energy and it doesn't help in any shape or form. It just wears you out."

Steve looks at Joe; the man can sometimes be very philosophical.

Just then a man dressed in scrubs walks up to them. "Detective Martinez and Commander McGarrett?" he asks. Gabriel shoots up from his chair. "I'm Gabriel Martinez. How's Matt doing?" The doctor removes his cap, runs a hand through his hair. "Well, it was touch and go there for a moment, but we've got him stabilized. The man has a skull as thick as an ox, because the bullet didn't even fracture it. The one in his shoulder did damage his lung, but we patched that up. It hit his scapula and there's a small fracture there, but that will heal by itself. Basically, all he needs is healing time and the proper care."

Gabriel clasps his hand, shaking it while uttering "Gracias, _thank_ you!"

Joe and Steve stand by, smiling. "Does detective Sterling have any family which should be notified?" asks the doctor. Gabriel nods. "Yes, he has a brother; Jimmy. I'll get in touch with him." Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. "You know, if you give me a number where I can reach him, I'll be happy to do it. You can stay here with Matt, I'm sure they'll be bringing him back soon." Gabriel shoots Steve an appreciate look. "Thanks."

The doctor and Steve leave; Joe decides to stick around for a while to keep Gabriel company until they bring Matt back from surgery. It takes less than twenty minutes before Matt is wheeled into the hallway; he's hooked up to IVs, monitors and other equipment.

"Oh man" sighs Gabriel, looking at his friend who lies helplessly in bed. Joe squeezes his shoulder. "Remember what I told you; don't worry about things you can't change."

They watch as Matt's bed is pushed into a room. Gabriel wants to follow but is held back by a nurse. "Just wait for a few more minutes, OK? We need to set him up in his room, run a few more checks to make sure everything is all right. I'll call you as soon as we're done." She smiles at him.

Gabriel sits down again, impatient to see Matt but forced to wait until they have finished with him. "Want some coffee?" asks Joe. Gabriel nods, and Joe is walking towards the coffee vending machine when they hear a blood curdling scream.

It's coming from Matt's room.


	7. War is hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Matt's antipathy against SEALs stems from the specific unit he served with. A lot is based on actual (researched) fact, and I've just taken it a little beyond its historical perimeters. It will become clear later on in the story.  
> *WARNING* This chapter deals with PTSD, so may be disturbing for some readers.  
> -  
> Those aren't nightmares Matt's having. They're memories. Bad ones.

* * *

 

_He is busy reloading, tilting his rifle to drop the expended cartridge on the ground so the sun won't reflect off it and give away his position, when all hell breaks loose behind him. He hears Kyle yelling his name; there's more but he can't make out the words through the ongoing sound of gunfire._

_A split second later it feels like the back of his left leg is hit by a sledgehammer, immediately followed by a searing pain. He screams and pivots onto his back, feels several more bullets impact beside him, then starts sliding sideways off the sand dune._

_He manages to grab onto his rifle with his right hand and sees three insurgents; one is down, his keffiyeh or 'head-scarf' drenched with blood. Kyle's work, no doubt. He scans for Mark and Tony, realizes they're just over the next ridge; they're trying to fix the Hummer's transmission after it got stuck in first gear because some dork SEAL-officer back home refused to sign off on new equipment again._

_The two other insurgents, wearing black balaclavas with their MP5 rifles aimed at him, are advancing towards him, and his left hand has his Kimber already out of its holster, flipping off the safety with his thumb, when a bullet hits his upper chest underneath his right armpit; it slams the breath out of him._

_He screams again, weakly this time, instinctively reaching up with his left hand, and the next bullet ricochets off his side-arm and hits his forehead._

_But this time is different, this time the world doesn't turn black immediately; there's hands grabbing him, shaking him, and he tries to fight them, thinks they'll kill him if he doesn't break free. They scream at him, their words sounding urgent, but they're incomprehensible; he has to break free, has to get out._

* * *

Joe and Gabriel start running towards Matt's room when they hear the second scream, and as they reach the door a nurse comes out, tears in her eyes, holding a hand to what appears to be a rapidly swelling cheek.

As they looks inside they see two orderlies struggling to hold down the figure in the bed, struggling but obviously losing their grip, and one of them suddenly flies backwards as a large fist connects with his head.

Gabriel runs towards the bed and then ducks out of the way as Matt's fist zooms past his left ear; Joe is right behind him and just manages to grab Matt's right arm before the other orderly gets punched as well. The man quickly shoots him a grateful look, then grunts as he tries to hang on to Matt's left arm with all his might.

"Get off me, sons of bitches, get _off_ me!"

Gabriel looks at his partner, sees the sweat streaming off his face, the clenched jaw muscles. He doesn't know where Matt's mind has dumped him, but it's not his happy place.

Joe locks his right hand on Matt's wrist, quickly steps close to the bed and snakes his left arm over the bed rail and Matt's elbow, then underneath, and grabs his own arm. He nods to the orderly. "You do the same, son!"

The man quickly follows Joe's example, and within seconds they have Matt pinned down helplessly. Gabriel leans over and grabs him by the shoulders, yelling at him, trying to get through to him. He barely manages to prevent from being head-butted by yanking back his head. Matt trashes his legs and bucks like a wild horse, roaring, but there's no escaping the double grip the men have on him.

Gabriel yells at him again, vaguely hears running footsteps behind him and quickly looks up; a doctor comes running in, takes in the scene and yells over his shoulder "Bring me a shot of Haldol-Ativan ten and two, _stat_!"

The doctor throws his upper body over Matt's legs, still thrashing wildly. Gabriel steps up to join him.

Moments later a nurse comes running in carrying a syringe. The orderly who has been punched by Matt and now sports a huge reddish-blue bruise spreading across his eye and cheekbone, steps up to relieve the doctor. "You're sure? Looks like he got you good!" The orderly nods and applies his weight to one of Matt's legs, Gabriel still leaning on the other one.

The doctor takes the syringe from the nurse, lifts up the blanket and without hesitation drives the needle into Matt's left buttock, pressing down on the plunger.

Matt howls an expletive, then screams: "Let me the fuck _go_ , dammit; let _GO_!" He fights hard to break loose and just before the doctor helps to pin down his legs again, manages to get one leg free and kick the orderly square in the face.

"Holy cow!" The doctor watches the orderly go down for the count, blood streaming from his nose. Joe and the other orderly tighten their grip even further to keep control of Matt's arms. "Doctor, what the hell is going on here?" asks Joe as he looks at the enraged man whose arm he's holing. "And when is that stuff going to kick in?!"

The doctor, now panting with effort while he helps restrain Matt, glances at Joe. "We ran a full set of tests for his head injury and found nothing wrong, so all I can think of is that this is psychological." He nods at the tattoo partially visible on Matt's right shoulder, displaying the words 'Semper Fi'. "He's obviously been a marine, most likely been in combat. God knows what he's been through, has seen or experienced."

He grunts as Matt nearly manages to get one leg free again. "This is something that is becoming a subject of interest in the medical world; there are some soldiers with previously undiagnosed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD that, when they wake up from the anesthesia, think they are back on a battlefield."

Gabriel looks at Matt; he now better understands what his partner meant years ago when he told him he had reasons for not being in a relationship, for not having a woman. He sees his dark eyes are wide open, but they're not registering anything that happens in the room; he's off somewhere else, he's stuck in a war.

"As for when the sedative will kick in" the doctor continues, "he's so pumped with adrenaline that it might take another ten minutes or so. Any longer than that and I will have restraints put on him; can't have the staff get injured any more than they already have."

Matt's eyes come to rest on Gabriel, who almost takes a step back at the combination of blood-lust, stark terror and fear he sees in the usually calm eyes. He flinches as Matt starts to buck again, causing the orderly to bump into the side-table and send a glass flying off.

Gabriel yells at Matt again. "Matt, come on buddy! Snap out of it!"

For a second he thinks he's gotten through to him; he watches as Matt literally seems to try dragging himself out of the hell his mind had thrown him in, back to realization. Then Gabriel sees the dark terror take a hold of his partner again, and he's back in a battle.

"I need to order restraints, we can't allow this to continue" says the doctor, as Matt starts fighting them again.

"Hang on, doc, let me try for a sec, all right?" says Joe. He puts his face close to Matt's ear, then shouts: "Hey, marine .. hey _boot_!" Matt's head snaps towards Joe. "Ain't no damn boot! Don't call me that!" Joe grins. "I know, son, but I sure got your attention."

It looks like Joe may have actually gotten through to him; Matt's struggles seem to ease off, the clenched jaw relaxing slightly. Gabriel lets out a sigh of relief.

"That's it, dude, come on. You're in the hospital, not some fucking war zone!"

He watches Matt draw a ragged breath, then relax even further, and feels a surge of pity for the man, wondering how he has hidden this aspect of himself so well.

* * *

Matt frowns as he tries to remember who the guy who just insulted him is. He doesn't think he knows him, but he can't be sure.

He's confused, he's got a hell of a headache, his chest feels like it's on fire, and there's something wrong with his arms. He looks down and sees they're being pinned to the side of the bed by both the orderly and the man who just called him a 'boot'. Why?

He remembers something about being shot, something about hands grabbing him, and something about hands applying something wet to his private parts. He thinks he protested the actions but he's not sure.

"Hey, thanks Joe" another voice says. Matt is now really working hard to concentrate. He thinks he remembers the Mexican looking man the voice belongs to, has seen him before somewhere. But where?

He slowly looks back at the man named Joe, who is releasing his arm. "... definitely looks like PTSD, seen it before ..."

PTSD? He asks the man a question, or at least tries to, but doesn't get further than a few mumbled words. "What's that?" the man, Joe, asks him. Matt tries again but fails hopelessly, his tongue a dead weight in his mouth and his lips refusing to cooperate.

He sees the man smile, almost gently, a web of wrinkles appearing around his steel blue eyes, and he feels him place a hand on his arm. "Never mind, son" says the man, "you go get some rest."

Matt thinks this is a good idea, as his head is now too fuzzy to form any coherent thoughts.

He sighs deeply, then has a coughing fit which causes a sharp pain to shoot through his chest. He groans between the coughs, starts to feel nauseous. Hands quickly roll him over on his side, he wants to protest but he's just too damn weak.

"Easy now, son" he hears the man say. "Easy." He feels a reassuring hand being placed on his shoulder, and Matt gives in to the overwhelming urge to close his eyes.

* * *

 

"He's out" says the doctor, and breathes a sigh of relief, then quickly checks Matt's pulse and looks at the monitors. "All good?" asks Joe. The doctor nods, then looks around the room, at the orderly still out cold on the floor, at the blood spattered across the bed from knuckles hitting faces and Matt ripping out his IV.

"Christ, what a mess!"

He kneels down next to the orderly, checks his pulse, then quickly shines a light in first one, then the other eye. "Well" he says, "guess who else probably has a concussion." With that he gets up and leaves the room to find some assistance.

Gabriel stares at the bed where Matt is now lying on his side, mouth half open and snoring lightly. A stubble of beard, liberally dusted with grey, is fighting its way through the tight skin on his cheeks and chin. His hair, still predominantly brown, short and thick, half covers a circular scar on his forehead where Gabriel knows a bullet pierced his skull. There's another scar running across his chin.

Matt has seen plenty of action, the doctor was right there.

As he watches, he suddenly realizes he's never seen Matt sleep. Every stake-out they've been on, every case they had to work and spend a night somewhere either in the car, or a hotel, he's always waken up to find Matt already drinking coffee, or exercising, or looking at the place they were casing. Not once, however, has he ever woken up before Matt. _Damn_ the self-control of that man!

They hear somebody at the door; it's Danny.

"Hey, is this the room of Detective Ma ... holy shit, what the f ..."

He stares at the blood covering the bed and the floor, the chair the orderly broke when Matt's kick sent him crashing backwards, the side table leaning against the wall and the broken glass on the floor beside it. He moves out of the way of two orderlies wheeling in a gurney, watches them place the limp body of the orderly on the floor onto it and wheel him out again.

He runs a hand though his hair, almost lost for words. "What the hell did I walk in on? It looks like a war zone in here."

Joe smiles. "That's probably exactly what Detective Sterling thought it was, Danny. The doc thinks he may have had some form of flashback due to the anesthesia."

"Huh" says Danny, looking at the big man now lying peacefully in his bed. "Guess he caused a bit of a commotion."

Joe grins. "Oh he did, he sure did. You don't want to get on this one's wrong side, wouldn't be a good idea, I think."

Danny looks at Joe, then back at Matt. "I, eh ... I think I already got introduced to that particular aspect of his character. Something about a couch ..."

Gabriel, incredibly, grins. "Yeah, you always know when Matt's been at it again. I swear each footstep that man takes is followed by an explosion." He says it with something close to adoration. Danny is totally and utterly disgusted by it.

"Well" says Joe, "that boy is as tough as nails, that's for certain."

Gabriel nods in agreement. "I've seen him do stuff, and know he's gone through stuff that would make any normal guy run like a dog with his tail on fire." He rests a hand on Matt's shoulder. "The funny thing is, underneath all that, the guy really has a big heart." He feels a wave of emotion, and he quickly scrapes his throat to get rid of the sudden lump there.

Joe smiles at him, and Danny leans over to place a hand on his arm. "Don't worry, you know, we know what it's like to have a hurt partner or friend here, and what that does to you. It's perfectly fine to get a little emotional about all that."

Gabriel nods briefly, appreciating the fact that nobody is making fun of his emotions.

Danny turns to Joe. "I came here because Steve would like to know more about that intel you got on Brody." He continues, slightly more sarcastically: "He thinks it's important we all sacrifice our evening and get to the bottom of this case." Winking at Gabriel he lets him know it's just a joke, that they're actually very serious where the case is concerned.

Joe walks to the door, taking another look at the sleeping figure in bed. "Well, I think we'd better get back to HQ then. I'm sure Matt here is in good hands." He smiles at Gabriel.

"Yes sir, don't worry; I'll watch over Matt here like a mother looks after her baby."

Joe nods and walks out with Danny, who quickly pats Gabriel on the shoulder. "You need anything, information or otherwise, just call us." They leave the room.

* * *

 

Gabriel sits with Matt for hours, watching him sleep. Every restless move he makes causes him to tense up, to be ready to call for help, but Matt slips back into a deep sleep every time. Gabriel is certain that he still has bad dreams, as he can see him frown from time to time, or hears him mumble. But they're minor things compared to the scene a few hours before.

At a certain point Gabriel decides he needs to eat, to stretch before he becomes permanently attached to the chair. He looks at Matt, and decides the man is still so far gone from the additional sedation the doctor gave him just over an hour ago, that he can easily pop out for a little while without running the risk of him waking up.

He leaves the room, walks up to the nurses station to inform them he will be gone for a while. The little blonde behind the counter smiles at him, nodding her understanding. "Don't worry, we'll keep a eye on him."

As she watches him walk down the hallway, she picks up the phone, dials a number and waits for the call to be answered.

"Ma'am? He's alone now, there's nobody with him."


	8. Things from the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the mystery woman. Well, you knew who it was, right?

* * *

Doris hesitates for a second, then opens the door to Matt's room. The curtains are drawn, and in the dim interior light she sees an unmoving figure; he's sleeping. She walks quietly towards the bed, draws up a chair and sits down. She takes in the strong features, now relaxed; she can't get over how much he resembles his grandfather, sharing the same dark complexion, the square jaw line, the broad, high cheek bones.

She looks at his scars; the one from the incident at Camp Geiger, where some idiot nearly blew his head off, is nothing more than a thin, white line running over his chin; the round scar left by the bullet in Iraq forms a ragged edged circle on his forehead. She manages to control the urge to reach out and move the short wisp of hair half covering it.

Leaning back into the chair she can't believe he's actually here, right next to her; if she reaches out her arm she can actually touch him. There are so many emotions coursing through her that she finds it hard to make out what they are; sadness, relief, the overwhelming urge to protect ... she has been part of this man's life for decades, following his moves, sometimes tweaking things here and there. The promise she has made so many years ago, the vow to protect him, to look after him, is one she has never taken lightly; a self-imposed duty she has never shirked if only once. It has been difficult, but she has always remained in the background, never walking up to him, never introducing herself.

There has never been a need to.

She thinks back to another time, another hospital, when she had visited Matt as well.

* * *

_When she walked into Matt's room at the US Military Hospital at Landstuhl, Germany back in 2004, Doris' heart had felt like it would stop._

_Yes, she was aware of his injuries, as she had made sure she was continuously and completely updated on his condition; but it still shocked her to the core to see him like this. He was hooked up to several IVs, and an automated blood pressure cuff just then deflated with a soft hiss. Other machines were beeping their contentment, signalling 'situation A-OK'._

_She looked at the familiar features which she had seen broaden into a man's face, a handsome face at that, as the years went by. Underneath his tan he was deathly pale, gaunt looking. His head, shorn bald to repair the damage caused by the bullet hitting his skull, was covered with a short fuzz in which some grey hairs were already struggling to appear._

_Only a small white small bandage covered the healing incision, and an even smaller patch indicated the spot where they had inserted an ICP or 'inter-cranial pressure' monitor while they had him in an induced coma. There were now deep lines in his face, both caused by exhaustion and by pain._

_There was a bandage wrapped around his chest, right underneath his arm. Doris knew this was both for the gunshot injury as well as the chest drain they had inserted to drain off excess fluid; the latter had been removed several days after surgery._

_She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. The doctor introduced himself, then looked at her questioningly._

_"There's no need to know my name, I'm just here to gather information on Sterling." She threw the doctor a challenging look, trying to stare him down._

_He didn't seem impressed, staring back at her as he demanded more details. "Fine, can you at least show something even remotely resembling an ID?"_

_Doris silently flashed him her blue & gold CIA badge. The doctor stared at it._

_"Right. So, what can I do for you?"_

_Doris asked him for an assessment of his patient's status, and the doctor started relating the extent of the injuries as well as the measures which had been taken to ensure adequate healing. He finished with "All in all, his condition actually exceeds our expectations." Doris raised an eyebrow at this. "See, ma'am, to all intents and purposes he should've been dead from what I heard and read. Not only is that not the case, he seems to heal at a fairly fast pace. I know it doesn't look that way, but both the Baghdad medical staff and our own here are duly impressed by his resilience. I mean, it's barely been a week since he got injured. Badly I may add."_

_Doris nodded; she had all the information she needed, and she walked back to the door. Just as she was about to step into the hallway, another question popped up in her head. "So how long do you think it'll be before he's back on active duty?"_

_The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Active duty, ma'am? Well, we don't know how long it will be before he's back on his feet, especially with the fractured femur. But one thing is certain: this man's career with Det One is over."_

_They both heard the hissed intake of breath coming from the bed. Doris quickly stepped out of the room, just as she heard Matt growling "What the hell do you mean: my career is over?!"_

_The doctor was moving back towards the bed as the door closed. She leaned against the hallway wall, listening to the muted voices inside the room, at some point hearing Matt groan with pain._

_Steeling herself, she peeled herself off the wall and went to find the exit._

* * *

She had followed his long and arduous road back to recovery, kept up to date on his progress. When he had decided to end his career with the USMC she had understood both the difficulty in taking that decision, as well as the reason why. He would never be able to reach the same level of physical fitness he'd had before, had felt that in a way he had betrayed the Corps by becoming medically 'unfit'.

His decision to become a cop, a detective at that, had not surprised her. Matt was not the type to quietly retire, and it would've been a waste of all his skills, all the energy he had put into his previous career. When he transferred to the LAPD, she had been able to keep a closer eye on him, even though he didn't need that anymore.

Ever since his parents died in an automobile accident, with Matt being barely nineteen and Jimmy just starting his freshman year at school, he had behaved like a responsible adult. He'd overseen the funeral preparations, taken care of his parents' estate, and afterwards had arranged for his younger brother to be taken in by his uncle's family and transfer to another school.

He had refused their offer for him to join them as well, stating that the USMC now was his family. He had picked up the pieces, packed up what little he had, and had moved on, never looking back.

Doris is pulled out of her reverie when the door behind her suddenly opens. As she quickly turns around, she sees Steve standing there, a frown on his face. Next to him is a man she recognizes from pictures; it's Jim Sterling, Matt's brother. As blond as his brother is dark, she notices he is sporting that famous pot belly many middle-aged men seem to acquire when they're nearing forty. She quietly gets up and motions for the two men to join her outside in the hallway.

"Mom? What the hell are you doing here?!" Steve crosses his arms and clenches his jaws, a familiar gesture she recognizes. His father always did the same, whenever he found himself in a situation that apparently was beyond his control.

She smiles, reaches out a hand to Jim Sterling to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Doris McGarrett, Steven's mother" and she nods towards her son. "As for your question, Steven" she now turns towards Steve, "Joe told me that Detective Sterling was injured, and I figured I'd pay him a visit, seeing how he is a stranger here and has, or had, no family at his side."

Steve throws her an incredulous look, scrapes his throat, throws his weight from one leg to the other. But before he can make some scathing remark, as Doris is sure he is about to, Jim Sterling smiles at her. "I think that's absolutely wonderful of you, ma 'am. You see, our parents died years ago in a car accident, and with the exception of my uncle and aunt, Matt and I only have each other. It was already really thoughtful that your son here called me, and your gesture is heartwarming."

Doris throws a threatening look at Steven when she hears a sound coming from that direction, seeing his mouth lift in a smirk. She can see he is not buying the 'loving mother' attitude she is trying to sell to Matt's brother. Just as Steve is about to open his mouth again, Gabriel shouts from further down the hallway. "Jimmy!" He walks towards them at a rapid pace, and throws his arms around the blond man, who hugs him back.

"¿Qué Pasiones, huero? What you been up to?" Gabriel's wide smile is answered by an ever bigger grin.

"Ugly little Mexican! How are you?" It's obvious the two men know each other well, and are more than a little fond of each other.

The cheerfulness quickly disappears, however, as they start discussing the reason for their meeting. "What's the latest on Matt, Gabriel; do you know?"

Steve and Doris listen as Gabriel fills Jimmy in on the condition of his brother.

"The doc said that Matt's overall physical condition, and the fact that he has always been physically active, made his muscles and bones so strong that the damage was less severe than it would've been in an ordinary man." Gabriel quickly smirks, pats Jimmy on his paunch. "For instance, you my chubby friend, would've been dead meat!"

The man smiles. "Matt always took after Dad, Gabriel. Me, I like to live outside the danger zone. Nice house, safe car, steady desk."

Steve scrapes his throat. "Your brother seen active duty then?"

Jimmy nods. "Yeah, all over the place, actually. Liberia, Persian Gulf, Africa; Matt never was a person to sit tight and twiddle his thumbs."

Gabriel laughs at that. "Like he does now, you mean?"

Jimmy smiles back at him. "Later on he did something more specialized. He's never told me much about it, but I do know that back in 2003 he had to hurry home after a combat mission in Iraq to become part of a newly formed United States Marine Corps unit. They were something very elite, something to do with the WWII Marine Raiders if I remember correctly."

Doris sees Steve's face become still, knows his mind is clicking over at high speed. Of course she already knows the story, has all the details, but she can tell Steve is working hard to put this information in its correct perspective and come to a conclusion.

"He's never told me much about it either," says Gabriel. "All I know is he got shot up pretty bad there, and it's the reason he has horrible nightmares." Doris takes that new information in. Nightmares; she didn't know about that. Gabriel continues: "And according to the doc he probably has PTSD, which is why he redecorated his room earlier today."

They now all look at him. "Redecorated his room? How so?" asks Jimmy.

Gabriel tells them about what happened.

* * *

Jimmy and Gabriel go into Matt's room a little later so they can check up on him, accompanied by the attending physician making his nightly rounds.

"So, what's this crap about you wanting to offer emotional support to a complete stranger?"

Doris throws Steve an angry look. "You sure don't like to mince words, do you Steven?"

Steve shrugs. "Well, there's always the chance of you disappearing into thin air from one minute to the next, so I like to dispense with anything that takes up unnecessary time. Like politeness." His look dares her to contradict his statement, but all she does is sigh. She doesn't feel like playing the guessing game with him right now.

"Look, you're right, OK? He's not a stranger; I know him, have known him for a long time."

Steve looks at her, totally taken by surprise. "What the hell do you mean? The man works with the LAPD and came here working a case; how can you know him?!"

Doris shrugs her shoulders. "That was a total surprise, to tell you the truth. I guess I lost track of him the last couple of years, and his coming to Oahu was completely unexpected." She can almost see the gray cells in her son's mind shifting into overdrive. His next question takes her by surprise.

"Kahala Mall? You saw _him_ , didn't you? That's why you got spooked!"

She is quiet for a second, then just gives in; she can't handle, just _won't_ handle having to deal with yet another situation in which her son hounds her every move, second guesses her every action. Maybe she really is getting too old for all of this. "Yes, Steven. That was because I saw him."

Steve turns around, then faces his mother again. "What the hell, Doris!"

"For crying out loud, Steven ... stop that!"

He manages to pull himself together. "All right, all right, sorry; Mom. Would you please be so kind as to explain what the _hell_ is going on?!"

Doris sighs. "All I can tell you is that it has to do with something that happened a long time ago."

Steve starts laughing. "Jesus, not _that_ story again!"

Doris throws him a furious look. "Fine, if you don't want to hear it, I'll just go now!"

He holds up his hand. "No, sorry, go on. But you can't blame me for ..." He rams his hands in his pockets.

"I can't tell you all the details, obviously. And first I want your absolute promise that you will _not_ discuss this with anyone else. And I mean _anyone_!" Doris stares at her son. "Not with Danny, not with Joe, and certainly not Matt! _Nobody_ Steven! Because you'll open a can of worms and make people unhappy for all the wrong reasons."

Steve looks at her long and hard, trying to find a reason why he shouldn't make that promise; he can't think of any. "All right, you got it. I promise I won't discuss this with anybody." She smiles, but then he puts up a hand. "Unless, Mom, unless something happens which makes it very obvious that I _should_ discuss it."

Doris looks at him, not certain she likes the little addendum he has just created. Then she sighs. "OK Steven, have it your way. But please be so kind as to inform me when you think it's necessary to tell this to somebody else; deal?"

He looks at his mother, then nods. "Deal."

"Well, there's really not that much to tell, at least, not much that I _can_ tell without disclosing the identities of people that just don't need to be involved in this." Steve huffs, but Doris decides to ignore him.

"Look, simply put: when Matt and Jim's parents died they were still young. And I made a promise to look after them after that. I followed their schooling, their careers; pulled a few strings here and there if necessary, or possible. That's all. Obviously, when they reached a certain age they didn't need me anymore, so I made sure I was updated on the bigger events in their lives. You know: promotions, career changes, marriages." _Matt almost getting blown to pieces in Iraq,_ she mentally adds.

Steve stares at her. "That's it?"

Doris nods. "That's it, like I said, there's really not that much to tell." Doris knows Steve has an inbuilt sensor to detect lies, but she can see he is at a loss here.

He feels something is off, but he can't decide what it is.

Doris knows it's because she really hasn't told him any lies. She just hasn't told him the complete truth either.


	9. No more retreat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure there will be any answers in this chapter; it's possible there will be even more questions.
> 
> Ready?

* * *

Matt wakes in the early morning hours to find Gabriel half slumped over the foot of his bed, his head resting on his outstretched right arm. Matt's mouth lifts in a half smile; he knows instinctively his partner had been spending the whole night watching over him. That realization is followed by the knowledge that Gabriel now probably knows about what he goes through every night.

As his mind slowly struggles to emerge from the fog that seems to permeate it, he becomes aware of the pain in his upper chest and head; he knows this pain, knows it's the result of gunshot wounds. Added to this is a dull, throbbing pain radiating from his sternum; this he knows as well, and he files it under impact by a large caliber handgun to his bulletproof vest.

Then there's an all-over ache which feels like he has done a strenuous workout; every muscle in his body screaming blue murder. He frowns; he doesn't know where to file this, can't recall what caused it.

"You got a bit rowdy yesterday."

Gabriel's voice comes as a surprise, and he can see he is watching him, his head still propped up on his arm. There's a small twinkle in his dark brown eyes.

"What do you mean ... a bit rowdy?"

Gabriel slowly unfolds himself from the bed, stands up and cracks his vertebrae. "Ahhh, much better." He sits back down on the chair next to the bed. "Let's see: a little rowdy as in cold cocking and cold kicking an orderly, punching a nurse, ripping out your IV, and streaming an endless supply of cuss words." Gabriel looks up for a second, then nods, satisfied. "I think that about sums it up."

Matt looks at him, stunned. "Holy cow!"

Gabriel grins. "That's exactly what the doc said when you kicked the orderly square in the face."

Matt slowly runs a hand over his face. He thinks he now knows where to file the muscle ache he has. "How was the other orderly, the one I cold cocked? And the nurse, how is she?"

"Actually" Gabriel scrapes his throat, "the guy you cold cocked and the one you kicked were one and the same." Matt groans. "And I don't know about the nurse, haven't seen her after the incident."

Matt closes his eyes; it's not like him to lose control so badly.

Gabriel watches as what seems to be a look of embarrassment passes over Matt's face. "Hey, Matt?" He puts a hand on his friend's leg underneath the blanket, lightly squeezing it. Matt looks at him. "Nothing to be ashamed of, man. We all have nightmares and stuff."

Matt coughs, a quick grimace of pain flashing over his face. "I know" he says eventually. "But most don't kick the crap out of people when they do." He tries to move up a little higher in bed, and Gabriel stands up to help him, rearranging his pillows and making sure Matt is comfortable.

"By the way, Jimmy was here last night." Gabriel grins at the surprised look on Matt's face. "He spent about ten minutes looking at you while you were sleeping and then decided he wanted to keep his food down, so he left."

"Fuck you, Gabe!"

Gabriel's grin gets even bigger. "Man, I just love being able to rile you up and you not being able to do a damn thing about it." Matt just stares at him. "Anyway, he said he was going to take in the sights this morning and come back after lunch. Apparently he has to fly back this evening, being the company's Golden Boy and all."

Matt nods. He knows his little brother is a math genius and considered a valuable asset to the stock company he works for. He's surprised Jimmy came out at all.

Gabriel watches as Matt's eyes flutter close; the conversation has obviously worn him out. "You know what, why don't you catch a few more hours of sleep, and I'll spend a little time at Five-0, see what they've come up with so far. They might know where Brody's at."

Matt has trouble making sense of Gabriel's words as his mind is slowly retreating into the fog again. He barely hears Gabriel's semi-sarcastic "Don't do anything I wouldn't do", manages to lift a corner of his mouth, then is out like a light.

* * *

Steve looks at the phone, almost picks it up and then draws his hand back again. He's not even sure what it is he wants to ask Joe. And even if he does, he's not sure he'll get an answer. It seems both his mother and Joe are experts at evading questions, avoiding answers.

His mother actually admitting to the fact she knows Matt Sterling nearly blew his mind. And now he can't stop thinking, can't stop trying to figure out who it is she made this promise to, to look after Matt and his brother. Is it somebody he knows?

Steve sighs, rubbing his left leg, which is propped up on one of the chairs. His mother has managed to make his life more complicated than ever. Instead of answers, he's got more questions. Sometimes it feels as if, instead of having gained a mother, he has one more adversary, one more suspect to deal with.

He looks up as Gabriel walks into Five-0 HQ.

"Hey Gabriel. How's Matt doing?" Kono's voice is warm with genuine concern.

Gabriel smiles at her; he really likes this woman who seems to be a complex mix of compassion and toughness. "As well as can be expected after being shot twice and then doing a redecoration marathon on your hospital room, I guess."

" _Auwe_! I heard about that, seems he was a bit confused as to where he was, huh?"

Just then Lou and Danny come walking in. Steve comes limping out of his office and joins them. "So, this call from HPD, was it Brody's pickup?"

Gabriel looks at Steve. "You guys found his car?!"

Danny holds up his hand. "Yeah, well, we might've found more than just the car."

Lou takes over from him. "That notification about a burned out pickup at Erma's Beach wasn't, ehm ... complete."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"The package contained a little present, so to speak. Not a pretty present, at that." Danny informs his partner with a wry smile.

Steve frowns. "A body?"

"One crispy critter: check." Lou nods.

Chin looks up from the PC table. "Oww, nasty, brah!"

"Was it Brody?!" Gabriel asks, stunned.

Steve looks at him, realizing that for Gabriel this whole thing is more personal than it is for the rest. "I don't know." He turns to Danny and Lou. "Do we know?"

Danny shakes his head. "No. When we left they were extracting the body; they'll take it to pathology for further examination. I'm pretty sure the only way they'll be able to determine the identity is through dental records. Any material softer than the teeth, well ..." He holds up his hands.

Gabriel utters a deep sigh. "And that's going to take, what ... hours? Days? Weeks?" He shakes his head, his frustration clearly visible.

Steve walks towards him before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder."Look, man, I know this must be really tough on you, but I can guarantee that we're doing everything within our power to nail this guy. And I'll light a fire under Max's ass so he hurries with the ID of the body. If it's Brody, your worries are over." With that, he goes into his office to make a few phone calls.

* * *

Matt is facing the windows when he wakes again several hours later. Someone has partially opened the curtains, and the morning sun feels warm on his face. The extra sleep has done its job; his mind feels clearer than it did the first time he woke that day. He lies still a few minutes, his mind mulling over the things Gabriel told him. Then he lets out a long, shuddering groan; it's a mix of pain, both physical and mental, and a sense of desperation that is totally foreign to him.

"That sounds as if you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, son."

He knows the warm and gentle voice, the soft drawl, and when he turns his head he sees Joe sitting in the chair previously occupied by Gabriel. For some unexplained reason he feels a tear - a goddamn _tear!_ \- rolling down his cheek.

Joe doesn't move; he just sits there and stares at the face looking back at him. Again he has this overwhelming feeling that he knows this man, has seen him before. Especially now, looking as vulnerable as he does, as he _is_ , that sense of familiarity is particularly strong. Then he gets up, coughs, picks up the chair and places it right next to the bed. Sitting down, he looks into the dark eyes, filled with a myriad of emotions and the remnants of stray tears.

"Something's tearing you apart, son. Care to talk about it?"

Matt stares at him, remaining quiet for a moment, then slowly shakes his head. "Think it's the drugs. Just feeling ... out of it."

Joe gives him a thoughtful look. "I think you're wrong there, Matt. I think it's a lot more than just the drugs, and I don't think it's smart keeping it all inside." He pauses for a second. "The doctor thinks you have PTSD. You know what that is?"

Matt's mouth lifts in a sardonic smile, and Joe realizes Matt knows _exactly_ what PTSD is!

"You know, don't you? Somebody's already fed you that diagnose!" Joe slaps his legs in frustration. "And you haven't even told your own partner?!"

Matt shakes his head. "Wasn't necessary. I learned to stay on top of it a long time ago, and never let anybody close enough to be in any danger. Not after ..." He stops.

"Not after what, son? What happened?" Joe looks at him, sees him withdrawing. "Now don't you dare go all anal retentive on me!" He decides to dress down the former marine. "Get your head out off your butt hole and spill the beans, marine! You call what happened yesterday staying on top of things?! If you're gonna be up and running with Five-0 again, they have a right to know what they're dealing with!" Joe throws Matt a hard look; he's secretly impressed that the man returns the stare without blinking. The kid has some balls, that's for sure, especially considering the state he's in. "Is that what they taught you while being part of Det One, son? Keep your shit in?"

Joe can see he has taken Matt completely by surprise. His eyes widen, and his breath stops for a second. "I did a little background check on you. Quite an impressive resume you've got there." He watches Matt collect himself again, sees the eyes harden, the mouth turn into a grim line. "Now son, I'm not only after the well-being of Five-0, but somehow I care for yours as well. And the only way we're gonna move forward is if you start talking. And I mean _really_ talk! So I'll ask you again: did they teach you to keep your shit in at Det One?"

Incredible but true, he sees what appears to be a flicker of humor appear in the brown eyes. "No sir. As a matter of fact, if any of us in The Det had to take a shit we'd say we had to insert a SEAL team."

Joe just stares at him. For a moment he is torn between laughing out loud and becoming furious. He decides to take the middle road. "That's something else. Why the hostility towards SEALs? From what I've learned, SEALs and Det One actually worked very well together. You guys even had the same training we did."

Matt blinks, sighs and closes his eyes. He's feeling exhausted again, being banged around on a roller coaster of emotions. All of this is coming too close for comfort, touching on subjects he prefers remain buried.

"Don't, Matt" says Joe, as he watches Matt starting to disconnect again. "A good soldier knows when to advance, and when to retreat. I think the time for retreat has come and gone."

Matt listens to Joe's voice, hearing the sincerity and sympathy, and for some unexplainable reason he feels he can trust this man, knows that whatever he may say, he will not be judged. He opens his eyes again and scrapes his throat. "All right." He starts talking, and continues to do so for several hours. Joe never stops him, never interrupts; he just sits there, watching and listening as the man in the bed pours out his soul, or at least part of it.

When Matt finally stops, totally exhausted both mentally and physically, Joe stands up and places a hand on his shoulder. "That took a lot of courage, Matt. And you must have one hell of a steel rod in your back to have remained standing through all this."

Matt rubs a hand over his face, wiping away the last of the tears which had started falling freely as he talked to Joe. All he wants now is to go back to sleep, to slip into oblivion; his mind feels empty, drained, as if he has spewed up every last thought. He fumbles for the nurse's calling button.

"Are you in pain, son?" Joe looks at him, worry written all over his face.

"Not really, but I want to sleep, and the last thing I need now is nightmares. And I'm pretty sure I'll have those unless I get doped up." His wry smile is apologetic.

When the nurse walks in, Matt explains what it is he wants.

"I'll ask the doctor, OK?" She walks out and is back within a few minutes, carrying a syringe. "This is a light sedative, which will at least help you fall asleep without problems. The doctor said it was a good idea, you need all the rest you can get." She injects the contents into Matt's IV.

"I'm sure he thought so." mumbles Matt, as the fast acting sedative kicks in.

Joe smiles as he watches him slip into a deep slumber. And as he looks at the face of the man lying in bed, he suddenly realizes who it is he reminds him of. He stares hard; it has been almost forty years since he has seen the man at Jack and Doris' wedding, but there's no mistaking the family resemblance.

There's only one possible course of action: he _has_ to talk to Doris!

* * *

When Jim Sterling walks into his brother's hospital room around four o'clock that afternoon, he finds him asleep; again. Sighing, he sits down in the chair next to the bed. He remembers how horrified he was when he had seen Matt in hospital after he was transferred home from Germany.

Despite the loving environment his uncle and aunt had provided him after the death of their parents, Matt was the one he considered to be his 'real' family. He had missed him desperately during the years of his USMC training, and afterwards, when he had deployed time after time for mission after mission. It had been years later that he had realized this was Matt's way of avoiding the confrontation of their parents no longer being there. His big brother just hadn't been able to cope with that.

A coughing sound makes him look up, and he meets his brother's eyes. "Hey there, sunshine. You're being a lazy bum again?" His remark is met with a slow smile.

"Hey kiddo." As usual, the endearment generates a warm glow inside. Jim knows Matt hardly ever lets anybody past the wall he has around his emotions, and he is one of the selected few allowed to do so. "Appreciate you dragging yourself away from work on my account."

Jim laughs. "On your account? Are you kidding?! It was just an excuse to finally visit the great state of Hawaii." He winks at Matt, who rolls his eyes.

Matt's head still feels fuzzy from the sedative, but he forces himself to stay awake, not wanting to waste what little time his brother has left before he has to leave again. "So tell me, Jimmy; what have you been up to lately?"

* * *

Gabriel has been spending all day with Five-0, helping to reconstruct events, going through all the facts again. They are desperate to find new clues which will lead them to Brody.

Meanwhile, he has called the hospital three times to check up on Matt. The first time he's told Matt has a visitor, and he presumes it's Jimmy. The second time he hears Matt is sleeping again, so he decides to leave him alone. The third time, he hears there's another visitor. Gabriel is about to call to Matt's room, when Steve comes out of his office.

"Just got a call from Max. He's done with the body they extracted from the car at Erma's Beach." He turns towards Gabriel. "I'm sure you'll want to come along. Chin, you and Kono continue to analyze that data. Lou, do me a favor and recheck that info we received from LAPD on the movements of those gang members."

Gabriel looks at Steve. "What do you mean; what info and what members?"

Steve runs a hand over his face. "Brody doesn't appear to be a man who does things without backup support." He watches Gabriel nod. "So my guess is that some of the Big Hazard members may have come to Hawaii together with Brody, prior to that alert going out." Gabriel blanches. "Hey, look; I may be wrong, OK? But I just want to make absolutely sure." He turns to Lou. "Take care of it, OK?"

Lou nods.

"Danny, you comes with us."

And the trio heads out to the Medical Examiner's Office.

* * *

After introducing Gabriel to Max Bergman, the little pathologist immediately starts discussing his findings. He walks around the severely burned body, pointing out features.

"Note the position of the body. It is what in medical terms is called a 'pugilistic stance', or defensive position used by those engaged in the boxing sport. Although actually the term 'sport' is not exactly a correct description, as inflicting brain damage to ..."

"Max, enough already! If I want to enrich my mind with useless facts I'll read an encyclopedia!" Danny throws him an exasperated look.

"Right. I'm sorry to bother you with facts which might actually enrich ..."

"Max!" Steve lifts a warning finger.

"Of course, Commander, I apologize." Max gives Steve a little bow. "As I was saying, this pugilistic stance is the result of the shortening and stiffening of the muscles as a result of high-temperature fires. This then results in flexion, or bending of the joints of the elbows, knees, etcetera. We can therefor conclude that large quantities of an accelerant was used to start the fire."

Max looks at the three men with a proud look on his face.

"Well, nice lecture, professor" says Danny, "but what does this tell us about the identity of the victim?"

Max gives him a dead-pan look. "Absolutely nothing, Detective Williams."

" _Jesus_ , Max!" Danny stares at him, totally flabbergasted, while Steve turns and throws his hands in the air.

"I can tell you one thing" Gabriel says, and they turn to face him. "It ain't him. I don't know who this guy is, but it ain't Brody."


	10. Pieces of a puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel seems sure the body isn't Brody; how does he know? And where is Brody?!

* * *

Gabriel's statement about the body not being Brody has left them dumbfounded.

"Detective Martinez, I am very impressed by the fact that you seem to be able to ascertain, or I should rather say rule out, the identity of this person by simply glancing at him."

Steve and Danny are surprised by the uncharacteristic sarcasm in Max's voice.

Gabriel is staring morosely at the charred remains on the examiner's table. What looks like a shudder passes through his body, then he looks up at Max. "I don't doubt your professional skills, Doctor Bergman. However, I happen to know quite a bit about Brody." He looks back at the body.

"So how come you're so certain this isn't Brody?" Steve is more than curious about how Gabriel comes to his conclusion.

"What do you see?" Gabriel points to a badly burned silver ring on the corpse's left ring finger.

The three men bend down, Max actually picking up the hand and turning it over to get a better look. The tearing skin sounds like pages being ripped from a book, and Danny utters a horrified " _Jesus_ , Max!" before turning away.

"There appear to be some markings on the band which I presume to be some form of Celtic decoration" Max clinically observes as his rotating of the hand causes the skin to tear even further. "And on the top it seems there are two hands holding a heart." He looks up at Gabriel. "I may not be an expert in these matters, but the ring looks very Irish to me."

Gabriel nods. "Somebody certainly did try to convince us that this is Brody by adding those specific Irish details, yes."

"But you're not buying it. Why is that?" Steve crosses his arms, staring at Gabriel.

"Because Brody's father used to be a member of _Fianna Éireann_ , the Irish nationalist youth organization" explains Gabriel. "We happen to know Brody had his father's enamel membership pin set into a ring decorated with rising phoenixes on both sides. He always wore it." He nods at the hand Max is still holding. "That ain't it."

"Great, so Brody is still out there." Steve rubs his chin, frowning.

Danny's revulsion is still clearly visible when he looks over his shoulder, shooting a short glance at the body. "Which begs the question: who is this?"

* * *

There are droplets of sweat rolling down the face of the Hawaiian looking man. He wipes them off on the sleeve of his blue surgical gown. The cold blue eyes of the man on the table are making him extremely nervous, the gun pointed at his head even more so. His hand holding the scalpel, shaking as he brings it down towards the leg again, freezes as he hears the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked.

"Now, that shaking does not bode well for my health." The voice sounds low and threatening. "You don't want to end up like your colleague there, now do you?" He glances down towards the body on the floor, a puddle of blood underneath it.

"No, sir, I don't."

"Then you'd best get your jitters under control and do your job!"

"Yes, sir." He steels himself, draws a deep breath and then moves his hand towards the leg again. The bullet is lodged against the bone, held in place by the surrounding muscles. He can see it has chipped the femur, small shards of bone having dug their way into the surrounding soft tissue. Grabbing a small pair of forceps, he begins by trying to remove the bullet, praying his patient has enough self-control not to shoot him if the pain becomes too intense.

When he finally manages to extract the bullet, the hand with the gun lowers to the table; it seems the pain has gotten the best of his patient. Without really thinking what he's doing, he quickly places the bullet in a small stainless steel tray, puts it on the ground and uses his foot to push it underneath a movable filing cabinet. After checking to see whether the man is still out, he turns and softly walks towards the door.

"You done then, are you?" He freezes at the soft voice behind him. "No need to clean the wound, stitch it up? Think you can just leave me to bleed out?"

Slowly turning around he stares at the blue eyes over the gun aimed dead center at his heart. "No, ehm ..." he coughs, nervously. "I needed to go to the bathroom."

"Sure you did. Why don't you first do you job, there's a good man."

Trying to control his erratic heartbeat, the young Hawaiian picks up the scalpel and forceps again, and begins the laborious job of extracting the numerous bone shards. This time, the hand doesn't lower, and the gun stays aimed at his head the whole time.

* * *

Gabriel is standing outside Matt's hospital room, his hand pausing on the door handle, listening to the laughter coming from inside. He smiles, happy to hear something else than screams. When he opens the door, he sees Jimmy doubled over, and Matt holding his chest, groaning and laughing simultaneously.

"Care to let me in on the joke, guys?" He grabs a second chair and sits down on the other side of the bed, watching as Jimmy wipes the tears from eyes.

"Man, Matt just reminded me of the time I lit a firecracker and threw it through the open window underneath Dad's chair. He chased me all the way down the block but in the end had to let me go. I eventually doubled back and hid underneath the rose bush out back for hours until my mother took pity on me and brought me in."

Matt is groaning, wiping away tears. "You should've seen him, Gabe. Not yet six years old, scratched as if a feral cat had gotten hold of him; also wet himself in the process ..." He starts laughing again.

Gabriel shakes his head. "Crazy, both of you!"

Jimmy sighs. "Yeah, we were a rowdy bunch. Mom and Dad never did have a dull moment with us, I think."

They're quiet for a moment, letting the memories take them back.

Then Jimmy scrapes his throat, claps both hands on his legs and gets up. "Well, I hate to do this, but I gotta get ready to head on back home. Plane's leaving in under three hours." He walks towards the bed, reaching out his hand.

Matt clasps it in his own, giving it a firm squeeze. "I really appreciate you coming out this way, little brother."

Jimmy smiles. "It's what brothers do, Matt. Stand by each other in times of need. Like you did with me when ..."

Matt nods. "It's all good, kiddo."

Gabriel gets up from his chair, walks around the bed and hugs the blond man. "Take care, hombre. It was nice seeing you again, although I'd have liked it to be under better circumstances."

Jimmy looks at the bed. "Yeah well, you know Matt; always has been a bit of an attention whore."

They both grin at the exasperated sound coming from the bed. "Have a safe flight back, man." Jimmy nods, waves at Matt and then leaves the room.

Matt sighs, closes his eyes for a moment. "Don't see that kid nearly enough."

Gabriel smiles. "Kid, huh? He's only a couple of years younger than you are, you know."

Matt nods. "I know, but he'll always be a kid to me. Comes with being the older brother I guess."

Gabriel looks at Matt, watches him yawn. "So, you need me to babysit you again tonight?" He says it jokingly, but there's a serious undertone in his voice.

Matt knows his friend means no harm, and he will stay if he just asks. "No Gabe, not necessary. I'm going to ask for some drugs again, make sure I get plenty of sleep and don't bother folks here during the night."

Gabriel knows how hard this must be for Matt, having to admit he has a problem, acknowledge that he has a weakness.

"Cool, in that case I will go get something to eat, then get some much needed sleep myself."

Matt smiles at him. "You do that. I'll be fine, don't worry."

* * *

The door of the animal clinic at Hekili Street opens and then quickly closes again, allowing barely enough time for the figure to slip outside. He pauses, looking around, taking in the darkness. Judging the coast is clear, he quickly moves along the buildings, then turns left. When he reaches the parking lot, he opens the driver's side door of an old, blue Ford. The owner, who had barely put up a struggle when he overpowered him, is now safely tucked away in the trunk. He'll have to ditch the car fairly soon if he doesn't want the smell to set off any alarms.

Groaning softly, he climbs behind the wheel, resting for a moment to catch his breath. The painkillers the vet has given him are starting to wear off, and he pops another two, dry-swallowing them. He carefully checks the bandages, ensuring that no blood is leaking through. Everything seems fine.

He takes out the piece of paper on which he's written the directions he's been given over the phone. It will take him approximately forty minutes to reach the address in Wahiawā, crossing half the island and then heading north. He will hole up there for a while, recuperating, meanwhile planning on how to finally get rid of these detectives that have been obstructing him for too long now!

Sighing, he starts the engine and then puts the car in drive.

* * *

"Boss, just got a call from HPD; they found two bodies at a veterinary clinic on Hekili Street this morning."

Chin's got Steve's attention; he puts down his coffee, frowning. "I take it that it's no ordinary robbery?"

"Not really, no" says Chin, shaking his head. "First of all there is the difference in times of death. One of the victims apparently was shot several hours before the other one."

Steve's mind quickly flips through several scenarios. "So the perp wanted specific info from the second victim."

"Close" says Chin, "However, it was more likely a specific service. They found a lot of bloody rags, and when they were nearly done processing the scene, they found a surgical tray with a bullet underneath a filing cabinet."

"Any matches?" Steve has a feeling he already knows the answer.

"Yup. That's basically the reason they called us." Chin waits a second before he drops his bomb. "The bullet came from Lou's Kimber. Looks like we picked up Brody's trail again."

Sighing, Steve picks up his coffee, taking a few sips as he thinks out a strategy. "OK, look" he says, putting the now empty cup back on his desk, "you and Kono go check out the crime scene, see what else you can find. My leg is still bugging the hell out of me; I know Gabriel made the hospital his first port of call this morning, so I'll go over there to fill in the LAPD guys on the details."

Just then Danny pops his head around Steve's door. "Lou just called. Seems your magical SEAL instincts were correct." He grins at Steve's face. "Come on, I'm giving you a compliment here!"

"Yeah, I should relish the moment" Steve sighs. "So what did he find?"

"Well" says Danny, "at least three Big Hazard members came through customs about a month ago."

Steve groans; this is not what he wants to hear right now. "Any names?"

"Lou will fill us in on the details, he's on his way over here." Danny throws Steve a questioning look. "Think we should warn Gabriel?"

"No, not yet." Chin raises his eyebrow at Steve's answer. "Look, he's got enough on his plate; let's try and find out where they're at first, before we open the bull pen." Pushing back his chair, Steve gingerly puts weight on his left leg. "Chin, why don't you hold off on going to that crime scene until Lou has arrived; then you can update Lou on the new developments and maybe initiate first actions on his findings, OK? Lou can go with Kono to Hekili Street if necessary."

"Sounds like a plan, boss" Chin nods.

"Danny, you'll be pleased to know you can drive me to the hospital." Steve watches Danny roll his eyes. "Come on, Danno; relish the moment!" He thumps his partner on the shoulder as he limps past.

* * *

Danny is taking the off-ramp to Punchbowl Street when Steve's phone rings. "McGarrett." He listens for a moment, says "OK, thanks for calling", then disconnects. He's silent for a moment. "They ID-ed the body in the morgue. Turns out it's some Afghanistan vet from Georgia; guy came back, lost his family, his house. Decided to come to Hawaii and be a beach bum, sometimes spend the nights on the beach."

Danny quickly looks at his partner, then back to the road. "Guess he picked the wrong beach to bum at this time, huh?"

Steve nods, then looks out the window, frowning.

Danny decides to leave him to his thoughts.

* * *

Matt looks up at the soft knock on his door, then watches Danny push it open and hold it for Steve, who comes limping in.

"Here Steve, take this." Gabriel gets up and pushes his chair towards Steve, who gratefully sits down. Danny leans against the wall next to him, so Gabriel sits down in the chair at the other side.

"How you feeling, Matt? Last time I saw you, you were trying to fill Danny's mouth with watered down food, and his ears with sweet nothings." Steve grins at Matt, who happily returns the grin.

"I couldn't help myself; I immediately fell for the guy."

They both look at Danny, who throws up his hands in despair. "We're here not even five minutes, _five_ minutes, and you decide to bring that up!" He throws a disgusted look from Steve to Matt, and back again. "Do either of you come with a mute button, or better yet, an off button?!" Danny turns to Gabriel. "Does he have an off button?"

Gabriel shakes his head and just grins at him.

"Hey Danny." Matt's voice now sounds serious, the grin gone from his face. "I never did get a chance to thank you." He turns to Steve. "Or you, for that matter. Gabe here filled me in on all the details; I seem to have forgotten most of what happened that day."

Steve scrapes his throat. "Yeah, well, no problem. I couldn't just let you drown."

Matt nods. "Heard you got shot as well. You OK?"

Steve nods, rubbing his leg. "Yeah, just a flesh wound." They hear Danny groan, watch him roll his eyes. "What, Danny?" Steve frowns at him.

"You know, Steve, you remind me of that Black Knight in a Monty Python movie. Had his arms and legs chopped off and still said he had 'just a flesh wound'. You're just like him!" He shakes his head in desperation.

Matt turns to Steve. "Is he always this, ehm ..."

"Emotional?" Steve sighs. "I'm afraid so, yes."

Both men look at Danny again, watch him throw up his hands in defeat. Gabriel, thoroughly amused at what is playing out in front of him, just sits in his chair, smiling happily.

Then Steve decides to fill them in on what has happened that morning, and the banter and jokes disappear.


	11. Dead ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's confession time for Mat. The guys pick up Brody's trail again, but that of somebody else as well. And where is Doris hiding?

* * *

 

Steve and Danny are about to leave when Joe comes walking into Matt's room. "Morning gentlemen; having a little AM conference?" Steve flashes him a quick smile. "Just filling them in on new developments, Joe. Why are you here?"

Joe looks at Matt, who tries to avoid his gaze. "Well son, I'm here both for you and Matt, but for two different reasons, really."

"Do I ehm, do I understand correctly that my presence, and that of Detective Martinez, is not welcome while discussing those reasons?" Danny rubs his chin while looking at Joe.

"Danny, I can see why Steve wanted you as a partner. Your detecting skills are remarkable." Joe smiles.

Gabriel gets up and, clapping Danny on the arm, walks towards the door. "C'mon Danny, I'll buy you a coffee; let's leave these men to talk business." He grins. "We can compare the character flaws in our bosses."

"Well, mine hasn't thrown me across a room. He did get me shot ..." Danny says as they leave the room.

When the door closes behind them, Joe looks at Matt. "Remember what we talked about yesterday?"

Matt nods, scrapes his throat, and then looks at Steve.

The latter frowns. "What's going on?"

Joe holds up his hand. "Give the man some time, Steve. This ain't easy for him."

Matt's brown eyes lock onto Steve's hazel ones. "I, ehm ... I have PTSD."

Steve says nothing at first, then nods. "OK." He looks at Matt, not sure what he should do with the information.

Matt swallows, then continues: "I usually have it under control; that is, except the nightmares. But sometimes ..."

Steve gives him a quick grin. "Sometimes you get the sudden urge to redecorate."

"Yeah, well, that too." Matt smiles. "And sometimes I react a little too instinctively, like when Danny suddenly grabbed my arm, and we, ehm, you and I ..."

Steve stares at him. "You've got some bad ass moves, that's for sure."

"Well," Matt smiles at Steve, "You ain't too shabby yourself, you know."

Joe sits there, looking at the two men turn a potentially embarrassing conversation into light banter. He knows it's partially due to the fact that both men have the same type of combat experiences, and they know how this can influence someone's psyche. They don't judge one another for that.

"I have nightmares as well." Steve shrugs, his admission coming as a total surprise.

Matt looks at him, sensing that this frank revelation is not something which comes easy to the Five-0 commander.

Joe looks from Steve to Matt, and back again, then sighs. "Well, that comes with the territory, I guess. We've all experienced and seen things we'd love to forget, I bet." The other two men nod.

"Anyway, Joe thought it would be fair if I told you about this, so you know what might happen." Matt scrapes his throat again, obviously not at ease. "I, ehm ... I come with a thick manual."

Steve grins. "Ask Danny about mine one of these days. I'm sure he'll tell you it's not only thick, but written in a foreign language."

Matt laughs out loud at that.

Just then an orderly and a man dressed in a white coat come in. "Hi. Sorry to bother you, but we're going to move Matt from the bed to a chair and start respiratory therapy." The therapist looks at Matt. "Your doctor discussed this with you earlier this morning, right?"

Matt nods.

"Well" says Joe, and gets up. "Guess we'll be leaving then." He pats Matt on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work, son. You'll be out of here in no time."

Matt smiles at him, then looks at Steve. "Thanks for taking it so well, Steve."

"Don't worry, man. We all have our problems, I'm sure we can deal with it." Steve gingerly gets up from the chair. He limps towards the door, held open by Joe. "We'll keep you posted on any new developments, OK?"

Matt nods. "I appreciate it."

* * *

Joe and Steve walk into the hallway. They see Danny and Gabriel sitting a little further down towards the coffee machine. "So, Joe; what did you want to discuss with me?" Steve leans against the wall, rubbing his leg.

"Where's your mother?" Joe gives Steve a hard look.

Steve frowns. "Doris? How the hell should I know, Joe?! You know as well as I do she's not one to update anybody on either her plans or her whereabouts. Why?"

Joe rubs his face. "Because, Steve, I need to ask her a few things, get some answers about things that have been bothering me."

Steve huffs. "Join the club. I have a long list of questions for that woman as well. By the way, why did you tell her about Matt being injured?"

"Excuse me?" Joe stares at him. "I never told her that. Now why would she say that?"

"I don't know anymore, Joe." Steve rubs a hand over his head, closing his eyes for a second. There are many complicated issues playing out right now. There's the mystery concerning his mother and the Sterling brothers; there's Brody, who's as elusive as they come; there's the hit put out on Gabriel, and then there's the Big Hazard members on the island.

Joe looks at him. "Son, I have the feeling your mother has a secret agenda with regard to the Sterling brothers. Now I don't know the how or why of that, but I plan to find out!"

Steve nods. He's angry at himself for having promised his mother not to discuss her involvement with the Sterlings without giving her prior notification. "I hope you get some answers, Joe."

Joe sighs. "Yeah, well, I need to find the woman first, though. I wonder where's she's hiding this time."

Just then, Steve's phone rings. "McGarrett."

"You better come back to HQ, boss. I think we found something you might want to see." Chin's voice sounds calm, but Steve can tell there's something going on.

"All right, we'll be there ASAP."

"Keep me posted, son." Joe pats him on the shoulder, then leaves.

Steve limps towards Danny and Gabriel. "We need to go to HQ. Chin just called, he may have some new info." He throws Gabriel an inquiring look. "Want to tag along, or do you prefer to stay here?"

"Gimme five minutes." Gabriel goes to Matt's room, disappears inside, then comes back several minutes later. "I'll come along. Matt's sweating up a storm doing this breathing therapy, so he'll be wiped out for the rest of the morning. I'll drop in on him again this afternoon."

* * *

When they're back at HQ, Chin motions them over to the PC table.

"I figured Brody needed a mode of transportation so he could leave the area around Hekili Street as quick as possible; so first I pulled any info on stolen vehicles, etc. Turns out there was a missing person report filed on one John ʻŌpūnui; he failed to come home after his night shift on Wednesday morning. His wife called it in."

Chin pulls up a photo of an amiable looking, Hawaiian man in his early sixties. "And ʻŌpūnui's car is missing as well. It's a 1984 blue Ford." More files are swiped from the PC table to the screens hanging above it. "So I started collecting traffic cam footage from the H3 interstate, west bound. This is from around 2 AM. It's difficult to make out, but look closely."

They watch some video footage of the deserted highway. "Which part of H3 is this?" Steve asks as he watches.

"The viaduct over Ha'iku Valley. Now watch this" says Chin, as he zooms in.

A car slows down, then stops along the viaduct railing. It's dark but they can see the car is light blue, and the Ford emblem is fairly discernible. They can barely make out the features of the figure getting out of the driver's side, but they can see he's got a beard, and he is limping badly.

Steve turns towards Lou. "Good shot there, buddy."

Lou nods, continuing to watch the video.

They see the person open the trunk, then drag out something which looks like a large roll of plastic, or carpet.

"Strange place to dump your old carpet," Gabriel mumbles, as they watch the figure drag the roll towards the railing. A shoe comes falling out of the roll.

Danny scrapes his throat. "I don't think it's just a carpet, unless they walk and wear shoes."

It takes the figure less than five minutes to hoist the roll on top of the railing, then push it over. He then picks up the shoe and throws it over the railing as well.

"Well" Steve says, as he watches the footage freeze just as the figure is getting back in the car. "I think we just solved the missing John ʻŌpūnui case. However, do we know where Brody went afterwards?"

"He could have headed in any direction, and unfortunately there aren't traffic cams everywhere" says Chin. "However, some of the information Lou got might point us in the right direction."

Steve nods, then turns towards Gabriel. "Might as well tell you, now that you're here."

Gabriel looks at Steve and can tell by his face that he's about to hear something which he won't like. He's right.

"My hunch on Hazard members possibly coming to Oahu before the alert went out paid off." He watches Gabriel blanch. "Lou has information on three of them, but we think there may be a fourth."

"Why do you think that?" asks Gabriel, looking perplexed.

Lou scrapes his throat. "Well, the three we know about have been spotted numerous times in several different locations. But they're always accompanied by a fourth, unknown person. So far we haven't been able to determine his identity, but we're pretty sure he's not a local."

"Why do you think he's not a local?" Gabriel is obviously nervous, and they can understand why.

"He has some pretty distinctive tattoos, and we found no matches anywhere." Chin states it matter-of-factly, trying to alleviate the seriousness of it all.

"Describe them." Gabriel sounds curt.

"One is a skull with 'haz' in the left socket and 'mat' in the right socket" says Lou. "It sits in the middle of his chest. The other is ..."

"... a pinup girl with a skull" groans Gabriel and he sits down.

Lou nods, surprised. "Yes, it is."

"How did you know that?" asks Steve.

"Because I know the guy. It's Rafael Flores, aka Rafa. And he's here for only one reason."

Steve sits down at the table with him, watching him intently. He can see Gabriel has an unhealthy pallor beneath his normally tanned skin. "You think he's here for you?" he asks softly.

Gabriel sighs deeply, then looks Steve straight in the eye. "No, I don't think so. I _know_ so!"

* * *

Joe stares at his cell phone in utter frustration. Every time he dials Doris' number, the call goes straight to her voice mail. _Hi, if you're trying to reach me, you know the drill._ Joe knows the drill all right, but so far she hasn't reacted to any of the messages he has left her. He's almost tempted to just drive to her house, but there's no guarantee that she'll be there. As far as he knows, she might have hopped a plane and left the island.

No matter which way he turns over the facts in his mind, he can't understand why Matt reminds him of that particular person, seems to eerily resemble him. Unless ... no. Joe shakes his head. The idea which just popped up in his mind is so far-fetched, so incredibly outrageous that he laughs out loud. _Come on, White. You're losing it, you must be getting old!_

He grins, pours himself a whiskey, then sits back in the comfortable chair. As he sips from the tumbler, the outrageous idea tries to sneak back into his mind. And as he turns it over and over, adding facts to suppositions, suddenly it doesn't seem as outrageous anymore.

Damn! He _really_ needs to get a hold of that woman!

* * *

Steve has called HPD regarding the body they've seen being tossed from the viaduct. They refer him to Max Bergman, who confirms their suspicion that it is indeed, John ʻŌpūnui. Apparently he has been strangled to death.

"Do you have a time of death, Max?" Steve can hear the little man at the other end scrape his throat.

"Yes, indeed I have, Steve" says Max. "Although the body had been severely damaged by the fall from the viaduct, I was able to ascertain from the degree of decomposition that Mr. ʻŌpūnui had been dead at least twenty-four hours before he, ehm ... before he took flight, as it were."

Lou comes walking into Steve's office just as he thanks Max and hangs up the phone. "We found the blue Ford. It's in a McDonald's parking lot in Waipio."

Steve rubs his forehead. "So, he's headed north. Any of the Hazard members spotted there?"

Lou shakes his head. "Not as far as we know, but that may be a question of time now."

"Yeah." Steve frowns. "Too bad we'll have to wait for them to pop up. I'd really like to get my hands on them sooner than later." He can't shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.

* * *

Gabriel pops his head around the door of Matt's room, making good on his promise to come visit in the afternoon. Matt is propped up in bed, his eyes closed. Not wanting to disturb him, Gabriel slowly closes the door again.

"Don't leave, Gabe. I'm awake."

Gabriel sees Matt's eyes are open. "Hey Gramps, I thought I'd leave you to your beauty sleep."

"No use, won't get much prettier than I already am." Matt grins at his friend, then frowns. "What's eating you?"

Sighing, Gabriel waves a hand. "It's nothing serious. At least, nothing to bother you with." He smiles at Matt. "So how was the breathing stuff?"

"Exhausting. Well, that wasn't too bad, really, but sitting up took more out of me than I thought." Matt emits a warning growl as he sees Gabriel mouth split in a mischievous grin. "No shitty remarks about age, please!"

Gabriel can't help himself. "I wouldn't dare, Matt. Not sure your heart could take it." He chuckles at Matt's disgusted face.

"All right, OK; you had your fun." Matt stares intently at Gabriel's face. "There's still something you're not telling me. What gives?"

Looking at his friend, Gabriel again wonders how Matt always manages to see through deception. It's like he has an in-built sensor which sounds an alarm whenever somebody tries to pull the wool over his eyes. "You're right." He sighs. "There is something which I really didn't want to bother you with yet, but ..." He watches Matt frown, then decides to just spill the beans. "Rafa is on the island."

Matt freezes. This news is almost as bad as Brody being here, at least where Gabriel's safety is concerned. Rafael Flores is second-in-command within the Big Hazard, at least as vicious as Brody, with an added cruel streak reserved for those considered to be _ratas_ or snitches.

"Steve know about this?" Despite being in a hospital bed, Matt is all business.

Gabriel nods. "Yeah, I told him why I think Rafa is here. Unfortunately, they have no idea where he might be. We do know now that Brody was heading north, so maybe ..." Gabriel shrugs.

Matt thinks it over. The logical way of things would be for Rafa to join up with Brody, wherever that one might be or go. "Give me my phone, Gabe."

There's no arguing with Matt now, Gabriel knows. Whatever he has thought up, it will be no use protesting or trying to change his mind. He hands Matt his phone.

Matt dials a number, tapping his fingers impatiently on the blanket until he hears _McGarrett_ on the other side. "Steve, it's Matt. Gabriel just told me about Rafael Flores being on the island." He listens, then cuts off the other man. "I don't care how you do it, Steve, but Gabriel needs twenty-four hour protection from now on." He holds up a hand to cut off Gabriel trying to protest. "Look man, you have _no_ idea! If you think Brody is a nasty piece of work, then I can tell you that Irish scumbag has _nothing_ on Rafa where single-minded purposefulness is concerned!" Matt's mouth is set in a grim line, his eyes hard and cold.

Gabriel can hear Steve talking in almost the same, curt manner.

"That's right" says Matt. "I don't care if you put the kid in a basket underneath your desk or stick him on a fucking leash and drag him with you all over the island; hell, lock him up in jail for all I care! He can _not_ be left alone until this bastard is apprehended!"

Matt nods at something Steve says. "Fine. And no, he doesn't have any say-so in the matter." He ends the call, then looks at Gabriel. "All taken care of, Gabe. You're staying here until Danny Williams comes to pick you up at the end of the day; you're staying at his place for now." Gabriel starts to protest, but Matt cuts him off again. "Like I told Steve, Gabe; you have no say-so in this matter."

Sighing, Gabriel hangs his head. He knows he can argue with Matt until he's blue in the face, but this is one discussion he won't win. And secretly, he's glad.

* * *

Doris sits on the deck of the house she has rented at Waialua Beach, staring out over the sea. She needed to get away from it all, _them_ all, to sort out her thoughts. Seeing Matt so vulnerable, then having to defend herself to Steve again has upset her far worse than she thought possible.

Her cell phone starts ringing again, and she frowns when she looks at the display; Joe. Again. He too has this pit bull mentality once he sinks his teeth into something, a trait which has stood her in good stead many times but is utterly annoying now that she doesn't need it. She knows she has to come clean with him, confide in him so she has at least one person she can fully rely on and share her problems with. Like she has done so many times in the past, even unbeknownst to John. Oh yes, her late husband knew about many things, was aware of her CIA past and the problems which arose from that period. But even he didn't know everything.

Rolling the now nearly empty bottle of beer between her hands, she lets her mind wander back in time.


	12. Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, thank you for hanging on so long.  
> The ride's not nearly finished though ...

* * *

The weekend has passed uneventfully. Gabriel has spent Thursday and Friday night at Danny's place, driving him nearly crazy with inappropriate remarks about sharing a bed and 'spooning'. However, it hasn't taken Danny long to realize that Gabriel's continuous joking is mostly based on nerves. And even though he hates to admit it, secretly Danny likes the younger detective.

Gabriel is forced to spend all Friday at Five-0 HQ, and he feels somewhat like an unwanted dog when he is 'passed on' to Steve on Saturday, as Danny has promised to take Grace away for the weekend. Steve watches him like a hawk and patiently updates Matt whenever he calls. Gabriel decides both men are very similar, displaying an uncompromising attitude where their 'guard duty' is concerned.

When Steve announces he'll go to HQ on Sunday to check for updates on the whereabouts of the Hazard members, Gabriel opts to be dropped off at the hospital, preferring to spend the rest of the day with Matt. Steve will pick him up when he's finished. All in all Gabriel feels like he can't draw a breath without being watched.

However, none of them are aware of the fact that a third party has been watching Gabriel's every move.

* * *

When her phone rings for what seems the hundredth time that Sunday and the display again shows it's Joe, Doris gives in. Sighing, she accepts the call. "Yes, Joe?" She listens to the rant with a small smile, then cuts him off. "Joe, you're right; I do need to discuss something important with you. How about we meet tomorrow?" She listens to the answer. "OK, I'll see you there."

Slowly putting her cell phone back on the table, her mind flips back to that one particular day in 1976.

_John wasn't even aware that she was carrying their son, Steven. They had not even been engaged, simply enjoying their relationship; a baby definitely was not on either of their agendas. It had just been a steady, slow progress of dating and becoming closer. For Doris, trusting somebody was not only a professional hazard, but a real issue._

_The very night she had wanted to tell him she was pregnant, he had beaten her to it and called her at home. "Doris, honey, I'm bringing someone over for dinner." He had sounded enthusiastic, almost uncharacteristically emotional. "It's somebody I used to serve with in 'Nam, and I bumped into him by accident."_

_She had smiled, thinking that the news about the baby could wait. It wasn't as if she had been completely sure yet about wanting to continue the pregnancy, or the relationship. Doing so would basically mean an end to her CIA career, as she refused to endanger any possible children she might have._

_She had been standing in the tiny kitchen of his apartment, the big house Steven grew up in not yet purchased. When she heard John's voice, she had turned around, then froze. "Doris, I would like you to meet Joe White. Joe, this is my soon-to-be-wife Doris."_

_Their eyes had locked, then she had quickly taken control of the situation and had stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you." Joe had held on to her hand, staring deep into her eyes, then smiled as well. "Likewise." She didn't think John had noticed anything; the moment surely had been too fleeting._

_In reality Doris had felt as if a truck had slammed into her, taking away her breath from the sheer shock of seeing Joe again._

_When, after dinner, John had gotten up to get some more beer, Joe had looked her straight in the eye. "Where the hell have you been hiding, Doris?!" She had smiled, a little sad. "I did what you did, Joe; I moved on. Don't tell me you were actually looking for me?" His silence made her even sadder. "No, I didn't think so."_

_Just when Joe opened his mouth, she heard John coming back from the kitchen. She had made a lightning quick decision that would influence all of their lives, and softly said: "Anyway Joe, all that's over. I'm pregnant with John's child." She watched as shock first registered on Joe's face, then watched with something close to admiration as he quickly managed to compose himself when John walked back into the room, carrying the beer._

_When both men had taken their first sip, she told John she thought it might be a good idea to start looking for a bigger house. He had raised an eyebrow, and she had explained that the apartment was definitely becoming too cramped for any visitors, especially if one certain visitor would decide to stay for the next eighteen years or so._

_John had first looked at Joe, who just grinned back at him, then at Doris. "What? Do you ... I mean, are you ..."_

_She had just nodded, and seeing his happiness she was glad she had shared the news after all. Her CIA career did actively end then and there, and she'd resigned herself to becoming a mother and wife. Joe had always remained somewhere in the background, always checking up on them._

_When her CIA past had suddenly become a danger to both herself and her family, it had been Joe and John who had come up with the plan of her 'accident'. John had discovered the additional ties between the CIA and the local Yakuza; the whole thing was a horrible mess._

_It had torn into her soul, but she had realized that this was the only way to keep her children safe and be able to move them off the island, out of harm's way._

But now, now she will have to disclose some secrets even Joe isn't aware of.

* * *

"So, what has that little snitch been up?" Brody is leaning back in an old recliner, sitting in the shade of the back porch of a dilapidated house on Ohai Street in the Wahiawa neighborhood. He's staring at the two Mexican gang members who just returned from Honolulu.

"Not much" shrugs the older one of the pair. "They have him watched 24/7; I'm sure the guy can't even take a shit without somebody holding his hand."

This elicits a snigger from the younger man, but one look from Brody shuts him up immediately. "This ain't no laughing matter; no laughing matter at all! He should've been _dead_ by now!" The cold blue eyes move from the one to the other. "You've been cocking up your jobs well and good, haven't you?"

Just then a figure peels itself away from the shadows at the back of the porch. "Lighten up, Irish. You know, both of them _no tiene dos dedos de frente_ ; they've only got half a brain, don't have all their playing cards."

The two Hazard members now both look skittishly from Brody to the other man and back; to them, both men are equally dangerous, demand an equal amount of respect. And fear.

"Well, my fine man," Brody says as he relaxes back into his chair, "seems to me then that it's up to you to do the job for them, right?" He stares into the black eyes of the sinewy man now leaning against the porch railing, the sun reflecting off the gold chain around his neck.

"It seems so, no?"

Brody nods, satisfied. He knows Rafa won't mess up, and the job is almost as good as done.

* * *

Gabriel comes back from the coffee machine in the hospital hallway to find a very worried Steve standing next to Matt's bed. He's watching as Matt's head moves restlessly on the pillow, his arms and legs in continuous motion.

"Hey, I was just about to call for the nurse. He's in pain or something."

"No, he's not." Gabriel looks at Matt, sees the sweat on his brow, the clenched jaws. "He's having another nightmare. He's been trying to go without drugs for the past few days, wants to be weaned off them before they release him."

Steve shakes his head, frowning as he looks at the man in the bed. "I don't know what's going through his mind, but it's not a fun ride."

Gabriel sighs. "Don't think it ever is."

* * *

_Matt looks at the film playing in his head and knows he should remain emotionally detached; he knows the scenes are based on information he's received after the most critical stage in his recovery._

_In truth, he's never seen or heard the two Iraqis being mowed down by his team mates who come running over the next sand dune; he doesn't hear the expletives as the men stare down at the bodies of the two 'Det' members in the sand before them; he's never been aware of the quick check for a pulse underneath the bloody grime pooling under his head, nor has he actually seen the man doing so shake his head._

_He knows he's never heard the call for an emergency air extraction by anyone in the area, knows he never actually felt being unceremoniously dragged by his feet towards the chopper which appeared minutes later. And he definitely never heard the uttered expletives when, as he's dumped next to Kyle's body in the chopper, his subconscious grunt of pain signals that he's alive after all._

_But he's now living through all of that, although this nightmare is not as intense as usual. And when a hand is placed on his arm, and he hears his name being called, he doesn't need to struggle too hard to exit the dream and wake up._

* * *

Gabriel watches Matt surface from the depths of his mind, blinking at the bright overhead light in the room. "Hey dude, welcome back. You dozed off while I went for coffee, huh?"

Matt stares at him for a second, then registers another person standing next to him, and turns to Steve. "Ehm, yeah ... I guess so." He scrapes his throat, drags himself upward in a sitting position and reaches for the glass of water on the side-table.

"Here, I got it." Steve hands him the glass, watching him closely. "You alright, man?"

Matt drinks the water, then nods. "Yeah, fine. This wasn't so bad." Turning his head, he looks at Gabriel. "You better behave if you're staying with Steve again. I heard you dished him about an old-fashioned interior or something."

Gabriel grins. "Well, you know, it would be great if it was, say, the house of my _abuelito y abuelita_."

Steve lifts an eyebrow. "Your what and what now?"

"His grandfather and grandmother. You're doing it again, Gabe." Matt throws his younger partner a warning look, but only gets an even bigger grin in return.

Steve's mouth lifts in his characteristic half smirk. "That's all right. If he gets too cocky, I'll just handcuff him to my old-fashioned stairs and he can spend the night there."

Both men look at Gabriel, who just stares back. "You know what really creeps me out?" He sees them shake their heads almost simultaneously. "That you" and he points towards Steve, "are actually dead serious about that threat." He watches Steve nod, then turns towards Matt. "And you are totally OK with it!"

"Absolutely" Matt shrugs. "If nothing else, at least I'll know you're safe and staying put." At that, he winks at Gabriel, who just sighs.

* * *

Doris is driving down Kalanianaole Highway on Monday afternoon, on her way to meet Joe. When she talked to him, in the end he'd told her: "OK Doris, let's meet at the Rainbow Drive-Inn; I could go for a Chilli Dog plate." She turns off at Kapahulu Avenue, drives down the road until she spots the multicolored façade of the restaurant. As she pulls into the parking lot she can see Joe, leaning against his car with his arms folded.

He looks ... dashing.

Immediately she feels guilt towards John, dead not even four years. She's being disrespectful to the man who opted to live with all of her secrets and past activities, both the ones he knew about and the ones he only suspected.

But then, she owes at least as much gratitude to Joe as well, for looking after her children, for looking after _her_ after her 'fatal' accident. And she feels horrible for the bomb she is about to drop on him, but she doesn't think she has a choice.

She gets out of the car as Joe, a slight smile on his lips, walks up to her. "So, how serious is this stuff you want to talk about?"

Doris looks down, puts her key in her purse and looks back up at Joe again.

He stares into her eyes for a long moment. "That serious, huh? OK, well, let's get this over with then. After you, Ma'am" and he holds open the door so she can enter the restaurant.

* * *

The food on the plate in front of Joe has grown cold, the fork he has thrown down earlier while uttering an expletive still next to it on the table. Doris can't make out what he's thinking right now; his face is a stone mask as he's staring out the window. This cold, distant man is not the Joe she has known for so long, and she is scared to death that she has now lost him completely.

"Joe ..." she ventures, but he holds up a hand to stop her.

"Not another word, Doris. I've been raised a gentleman, and taught to never hit a woman." He throws her a cold, hard look. "But by God, woman, I'm _this_ close to giving you an ass whooping!"

Doris looks at him from underneath her eyelashes. She can't help it, but even now she feels a deep attraction for him.

Somehow this emotion makes it to her face, because he throws her a disgusted look. "Oh for crying out loud, Doris! Have you not a single decent bone in your body?!"

She can't help it, blames it on the nerves and stress of the past few weeks, but there's a smile appearing on her lips and she playfully and coyly flutters her lashes at him. "No sir, I don't believe I do."

Joe stares at her in disbelief, then shakes his head and throws up a hand. "You've gone mad. That's it, that's the explanation. All those years of playing I Spy have messed up your brain beyond repair."

Now she laughs out loud. "Oh come on, Joe; you know better than that. I may have made some bad decisions but ..."

Joe interrupts her. "Some? Really Doris; some?!" He shakes his head. "How about a long, continuous series of mistakes, the first one being that you never even bothered to tell me about this from the beginning; I could've helped you!"

Now she starts to feel angry, as well as deeply hurt that he thinks she has done all the wrong things. She snaps at him. "Now why the hell would I have told you, Joe? You didn't even bother to look for me, remember?! And after ..." She swallows, feeling miserable at the memories of it all. Then she draws a deep breath, continuing: "When I was eighteen I was recruited to join the CIA's 'Undergraduate Scholar Program', and it wasn't until 1973 that I could pull sufficient strings to find out where you were." She watches as a look of surprise comes over his face. "Yes Joe, I checked up on you. Find that hard to believe? It's one of the things I did for a living!"

Joe watches as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "And what would you have done, Joe; what could you have done to help me? Think anything you would have done would've benefited our careers? I hardly think so!" Doris draws a shaky breath.

"So why didn't you say anything when we met again in 1976?" Joe looks at her, frowning.

Doris utters a short, harsh laugh. "You're kidding, right? What would you have wanted me to tell John? How would you have liked me to explain the fact that we knew each other already?! _Golly gee John, I know your buddy from the Navy already; we had a wonderful summer nine years ago. Now let's get married._ And I had a good life with John, I wasn't going to mess with that! Last but not least, don't forget I was pregnant with Steven already; think I wanted to be left alone with a baby? Go to hell, Joe!"

Doris gets up, not caring about the shocked looks the other people are throwing her after her outburst; she grabs her purse off the table, throws Joe a scorching look and walks out the door. Right now she doesn't care about her attraction to him, doesn't care about the fact that he has been her best friend for almost forty years, doesn't care about the secret they now both share.

All she thinks about are the pain and grief she has carried all those years, the sacrifices she has made, and the fact that Joe has thrown all that back in her face as 'mistakes'. She rams her key into the car door, gets in, and then gets out of there as fast as she can.

Joe watches her car pull out of the parking lot, then rubs a hand over his head, feeling more tired than angry now. Women. He has just watched her go from anxious to seductive to playful and then to angry in less time it takes him to shave. And dammit if that wasn't one of the things that had attracted him to her so many years ago, the fact that underneath that cool exterior there lurked a deep pool of hidden emotions that most people never got to see.

He sighs, exhausted by his own emotions that have had such a shock this afternoon, the disbelief he has felt when Doris told him the biggest secret of her life, and the utter surprise and disgust that she has managed to keep all that hidden from him. From John. From everybody.

The questions he was going to ask her have all been answered now. He gets up, goes to pay the bill and then heads out to the parking lot.

The drive to Doris' house takes longer than usual; Joe's thoughts are all over the place, thinking about Doris, trying to make sense of what she's told him. It's obvious he needs to talk to her again and, what's more important, apologize. She had every right to be angry at him for the way he reacted but, _dammit_ , he had the right to be angry as well!

He feels his gut tightening again, frustrated, upset. Had she really thought he would react any other way?

* * *

Doris is still sitting on the edge of the couch where she sat down after she came home. Her anger at Joe subsided as she walked into the comfort of her own home, and it hadn't taken long for tears to appear. She had sobbed uncontrollably, desperately sad, and the fear of having lost Joe had risen to the surface again. She can't lose Joe, not again!

She wipes away the last of the remaining tears, shakes her head; now is not the time to become emotional. She needs to start thinking on how to handle things from here on. She looks up as she hears a car pull up to the house.

Joe parks the car and gets out, walks towards the door, hesitates for a second, then knocks. "Doris?" At first there's no answer, but then the door opens. Doris just stares at him and he can see she has been crying.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry." He steps up to her and wraps his arms around her, feeling her resist at first but then molding herself to his body. "I'm sorry, Doris. What I said back there was uncalled for, but woman, you sure blasted the ground from underneath my feet!"

Doris leans her head back, staring at him without saying a word. He quickly dips down his head and kisses her, and Lo and Behold, she kisses him back. He gently pushes her inside the house and kicks the door shut with his foot.


	13. No Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING* - This chapter contains very emotionally upsetting content. Please continue at your own discretion; I don't want to be responsible for any nightmares.
> 
>  
> 
> Remember that feeling of impending doom Steve had a while ago?  
> Yeah ...

* * *

 

"I am so ready to get out of this place!" Matt sighs, looking at the doctor standing next to his chair. He has been spending almost all of the last few days out of bed, and is frustrated by being cooped up in the hospital. It has been exactly a week since he got shot, but to him it feels like it's been a month or more. His frustration has peaked this morning.

"Yeah, I bet." The young doctor sounds absent-minded, leafing through the status report. He compares notations, tests and outputs. "Well" he says, glancing down at the big man sitting in the chair, "I can't see any reason why we can't discharge you this week." He glances back at the papers in his hand. "You're healing at a pretty remarkable pace; from what I gather from your medical history, that's something that has surprised people before." He bends down to inspect the wound on Matt's head. "Hm, that's looking good as well. It will be quite a scar though; and it'll be at least a month before it has completely healed."

Matt nods. "I'm aware of how long it takes for stuff like this to heal; been there before, remember?"

Frowning, the doctor stares into the dark eyes calmly looking up at him. "Yeah, that's something else we need to discuss. Therapy for your PTSD." He holds up a hand as Matt rolls his eyes. "I know how you feel about that, but I think it's very important. I talked to your Behavioral Science Services therapist at the LAPD, and she told me that you stopped seeing her. Why?"

It's one thing to talk about these things with Joe, whom Matt - strangely enough - trusts implicitly. He's not planning on going the therapy route again though. When he looks at the doctor his resolve is clearly visible. "Look, there was an incident, the incident was handled, I went into therapy and learned how to handle it. That's all there is to it."

The doctor looks at his clenched jaw and decides he's not going to give up that easily. Rifling through the papers, he says "So you call fracturing the jaw and dislocating the elbow of your girlfriend at the time 'an incident'?" The moment the words leave his mouth, he realizes he has made a mistake.

Matt moves from the chair much faster than logic dictates a man in his condition should be able to do. Eyes black with anger, he stands only inches from the doctor. "You have _no_ right to go there! Hear me?! Stay the _fuck_ out of my life!" The words are low and threatening; the doctor nearly stumbles as he steps back, face white with fear.

"Stand down, Matt!" Steve moves from the doorway towards the two men by the window almost as quickly as Matt moved from the chair. He gently pushes the doctor away, and when Matt instinctively turns to follow him, Steve positions himself between them. "Hey! Look at me. _Look_ at me!" Again he notes how tall Matt actually is, topping him by nearly two inches.

Matt's eyes bore down into Steve's. "Don't get involved."

Steve's eyebrows raise up. "Oh, I _am_ getting involved! See, this is _my_ area of jurisdiction, whether you like it or not. And if I see something going down which could possibly lead to trouble, I definitely get involved. So I'll say it again, Matt: stand down!"

Something flickers across Matt's face, and for a second Steve thinks Matt will attack him despite his injuries. He tenses up in anticipation, but just as quickly Matt closes his eyes, sighs deeply and makes his way back to the chair. Sitting down gingerly, he looks up at the doctor, still standing there. "I'm sorry, doc. No idea what happened just then."

Incredibly, a tight little smile appears on the young doctor's face. "Oh, I think we both know what happened. And despite that impressive display just now, I'm not going to let you off this easy." He curtly nods at Steve, then leaves the room.

"So what the fuck was that all about, huh? What the _hell_ are you thinking, threatening a doctor?!" Steve stands in front of Matt, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face. "And don't give me any bullshit. I want to know; what gives about this incident?"

Matt shakes his head. "No, not going there."

"Oh yes, you _are_ going there! Because if I don't know what this is about, if I don't know what could set you off and make you go crazy like you did just now, then I can't have you around my team!" The two men stare at each other, then Steve sighs, grabs a chair and plunks it down in front of Matt. "Look man, I get a lot of the stuff that's troubling you. Hell, my own therapist has suggested on several occasions I might have PTSD, a mild form anyway."

Matt gives Steve another long look, then sighs. "OK. In 2007 I hooked up with this wonderful girl, Lynn. She accepted me for what I was; damaged goods. I told her I had these horrible nightmares; she was very understanding." He rubs a hand over his face, wincing as he accidentally touches the wound on the side of his head. "Then one night I had a nightmare, a really bad one, and for some reason she forgot the most important rule I had taught her: Don't touch me when I'm in deep." He swallows. "I woke up because ... because her screams were louder than mine." Matt looks at Steve, the pain in his eyes almost palpable. "I broke her jaw, dislocated her elbow ..."

"Oh Jesus, man!" Steve is shocked.

Hanging his head, Matt softly continues. "The horror of that moment, seeing what I'd done to her; it broke something inside me." He is quiet for a moment. "After I called 911 I tried holding her, see if I could give her first aid, but she backed away from me as far as possible, into a corner of the bedroom. She was terrified of me." He looks up at Steve. "Incredibly, she never pressed charges. I immediately signed myself up for therapy; talked and talked, learned the danger signs; was taught coping mechanisms. I didn't want the drugs they tried giving me, but I made sure I never put anybody in danger again. The exception was unexpectedly ending up in hospital here."

Steve sighs. "That's a rough story, man. How does all this influence your work as a detective?"

Matt shakes his head. "Barely. Turns out that going into overdrive in certain situations is mostly just my inherent nature. Although my frustration tolerance level has dropped because of the PTSD."

"Basically he's just a foul-tempered son-of-a-bitch with control issues. Worse on the days when he's an Ouch Grouch."

Both men turn towards the door. Gabriel leans against the doorway, a big grin on his face. Next to him stands Danny, hands in his pockets, a small frown on his face.

"Shit Gabriel, where the hell where you?!" Steve gets up and walks towards him. "I came here looking for you after you disappeared from HQ."

Before Gabriel can answer, Danny jumps in. "He ehm, he actually never left HQ. I found him talking to Jerry in Interrogation; something about a conspiracy theory that the DEA runs a drugs cartel in Mexico." He looks at Gabriel, who stares back at him, then lifts an eyebrow. "Ain't no theory, is what Jerry said."

Matt wonders how much the men have heard of what he has just told Steve, then decides that it really doesn't matter anymore. It seems that he has to learn to come clean about certain things.

Steve looks back at him. "About what you told me; this won't leave the room as far as I'm concerned. I'll take your word for it that it won't influence our cooperation once you get to leave here."

Matt nods his appreciation.

* * *

"So what's your next move, Mrs. McGarrett?" Joe slides his arm around Doris, who leans against him.

"I don't know, Mr. White. I still don't know what would be wise in all of this."

He kisses the top of her head. "I agree with you there. It's not easy."

They've spent most of the night talking and exploring this rediscovered relationship that seemed to have died so many years ago.

To Joe, it feels like he has finally come home. It hasn't taken him long to realize that his failed marriages have all been efforts to find the feeling he once had with Doris, that emotion he now feels again. It's the feeling of being able to bare his soul, and being able to look into the soul of the other. Being accepted for what he is, including all the dark little corners that usually never see the light of day.

He knows Doris for what she is, who she is; knows what she is capable of when her loved ones are threatened, but also how she will give herself unconditionally to those she loves, even if they themselves are not aware of it. Like Steve. Joe grins. "I wonder what Steve's reaction will be." He feels Doris lift her head, turns so he looks into her eyes. "Think he will react positively?"

Doris sighs. "If throwing a huge temper tantrum, then slamming out of the house and driving off at high speed qualifies as 'positive' then yes, I think he will react positively."

Joe throws back his head, laughing out loud. It's exactly the reaction he thinks Steve will have.

* * *

"Lou, wasn't one of those Hazard members a guy named Joaquín Cruz?" Chin stares down at the PC table.

Lou comes walking up to him, holding a mug of coffee. "Yeah, Joaquín Cruz, Alfredo Soto and Luis Garza. Why?"

Chin swipes something to one of the hanging screens. "Because Cruz launched himself off the H2 onto Hi-99 last night. Seems he lost control of his car and completely missed the exit. Something about a high-speed chase by the HPD."

They take a closer look at the accident report. Apparently Cruz had been pulled over for speeding, and just as the officer walked up to his car he had drawn a gun on him. Things had quickly escalated from there, with Cruz flying off the exit ramp after being chased by three patrol cars. It had taken the emergency services hours to extract him from the wreck, and by then all help was too late.

"So that puts our suspects in the Wahiawa area." Steve ambles up to Chin and Lou, his limp now barely noticeable.

Chin nods. "That's right. Chances are Brody is holed up in that area as well." He pulls up a map. "If you take into account the fact that Cruz apparently tried getting onto Hi-99, and if you continue on Hi-99 into Wahiawa, you end up in an area with a less than savory reputation."

Danny studies the map. "That does tie in neatly with the abandoned blue Ford at Waipio. They either stole another car from there, or Brody got picked up by his partners in crime."

Steve nods. "My bet is on the latter. I think they set up house in that area, sort of like a fall-back base for their operations. Honolulu would be too much under our nose."

Gabriel nurses his mug of coffee with both hands. The mention of the Big Hazard gang and Brody has made him nervous. "Are you going after them?"

Steve looks at him. "Well, we don't know exactly where they're at, so that's going to be difficult." He watches Gabriel nod, and again realizes how hard all this is for the younger detective. "Look, we'll put out an APB for all four of them for the Wahiawa area. If any of them are spotted, we'll go over there immediately."

Gabriel looks up at Steve. "OK. I know we don't have much to go on; hell, it took us long enough to even gather information on these guys. BTW, has any new information come up on Rafa? Rafael Flores?"

Chin shakes his head. "No, that man is a ghost. No information on how he got onto the island, nothing on where he is. But my bet is that he is holed up with the others in Wahiawa."

Steve nods. "That's my bet as well. If he's Brody's right man and the one that hands out orders to the other Hazard members, he'll be staying close to Brody."

* * *

Later that afternoon Gabriel is dropped off at the hospital again. He needs things from his car still parked in the parking garage, and he is worried about Matt, who has shared more about his background in a week than in all the time they have been partners at the LAPD.

When Gabriel walks into Matt's room, he sees the same young doctor sitting in a chair next to Matt. When Gabriel raises an eyebrow, Matt smirks. "I promised not to bite."

This elicits a short laugh from the doctor, who seems fairly relaxed as he scribbles down something in his report. Next, the doctor hands Matt a paper. "So, here's the name and the address of the psychotherapist I want you to see. She's at Tripler Army Medical Center and usually doesn't work with law enforcement officers. However, I explained your somewhat, ehm, exceptional situation as well as your temporary stay here, and she's willing to see you."

Matt nods. "Thank you. I'll definitely go there."

The doctor looks at him. "I honestly hope you do, I think she might really be able to help you with a lot of your problems." The doctor gets up, shakes Matt's hand, then nods at Gabriel.

"Well, amazing what breakthroughs can happen if you spend a little time on sunny Oahu, right?" Gabriel grins at Matt's face, then turns serious. "Come on, man. I'm sure it must be very difficult for you, but I honestly think this will be good for you. You've been holding this stuff in way too long, don't you think?"

Matt shrugs. "It's not as bad as he makes it out to be."

Gabriel just stares at him. "Not as bad? _Amigo_ , you've been leaving a wide trail of people you've attacked, beaten up and verbally threatened here! Don't tell me that's all just your sunny disposition!"

Matt laughs at that. "Well, you know me, Gabe. Once in a while a dark cloud just pops in front of that sunny face of mine." He winks at Gabriel, who sighs and smiles at him.

* * *

Gabriel is still smiling when he walks out the main lobby and turns right towards the parking garage. He walks along the railed foot path, hops on to the sidewalk and then crosses the side street towards the parking entrance. His car has been parked there for several days now, as he usually tags along with one of the Five-0 members so they can keep an eye on him. His bag with the remainder of his clothes is still in the trunk, and he really wants his own shaving gear by now; the disposables he's been using so far leave his skin raw. When his phone rings, he grins when he sees Matt's name on the display. "Gramps, come on; you worried already?"

Matt's voice sounds curt. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I'll just get ..."

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel ducks just in time for the first bullet to harmlessly wizz past his head. As he drops the phone and reaches for his holster, the second bullet catches him right in the stomach. It's as if somebody sticks a hot poker in his guts; he loses control over his legs, over his bowels and bladder; as he slowly sinks to the ground he thinks _Not like this, ay Dios mio, not like this!_

A figure is stepping out of the shadows, walking towards him, and he blinks, fighting hard to stay conscious as a warm, strange pain spreads through his midsection. He tries to make out a face, but it's the voice when the figure speaks that makes him realize who it is.

" _Hola, Gabo, mí hermano_. Don't feel too good, huh?"

It's Rafa, the weasel that took over after Ché ended up in prison. Rafa coming to take care of unfinished business.

Scenes and images from years ago speed by: a grinning Ché and Rafa showing up at their meeting house after taking out rivals; Ché viciously beating up a member suspected of handing information to the police, then Rafa stepping in to cut his throat; Ché screaming obscenities as he's being hauled off by the police.

For weeks after Ché's arrest they thought he'd gotten away with it, thought nobody had marked him as being the informant; the night he realized they'd been wrong, the night when he'd been beaten and kicked into a senseless pulp, Rafa had stood over him, ready to cut his throat when blue lights and sirens had interrupted him.

It had been Matt who had reached him first, Matt who had realized the game was up as soon as Gabriel failed to show up for their scheduled meeting, and he'd come to his rescue, had called for an ambulance while he gently cradled Gabriel's broken face, holding it off the hard pavement.

As he sees the knife coming towards his throat, Gabriel realizes two things; the first is that Chin and Steve were wrong about Rafa staying with Brody. The second realization is that his time is up.

"Padre nuestro que estás ..." It's as far as Gabriel gets before his world turns dark.

* * *

Matt runs as if his life depends on it, out the room, down the hallway. After the first few steps a deep, throbbing pain starts in his chest, and every breath feels like he's inhaling pure fire; he doesn't let it slow him down. He's still holding the phone, yelling Gabriel's name. There's no response.

He's lost his slippers somewhere along the way, running barefoot; his t-shirt is drenched with sweat, and he subconsciously notes that he's probably bleeding as well. As he runs into the parking garage, his eyes take just a few second to adjust to the dim light. He knows Gabriel has parked the little red Nissan 370Z somewhere along the back.

He spots it parked into a corner; several people are staring at it, not coming closer. As a sickening feeling of despair starts coursing through his gut; he runs towards it, yelling Gabriel's name again. He can barely make out two figures, one lying prone on the ground, the other kneeling next to the first. As he brutally shoves the kneeling man out of the way, the sight that greets him slams the breath out of him.

He's too late.

* * *

"Boss, shots fired in the Miller parking garage at Queens Medical!" Chin has a grim look on his face and Kono's mouth falls open in a horrified 'o'. They look at each other, and the whole team immediately knows that something is horribly wrong.

"Chin, Kono; stay here and keep us updated! Lou, Danny, with me!" Steve runs out of HQ, followed by Lou and Danny. Somewhere deep down, Steve realizes that the feeling of impending doom he's been experiencing this past week has become a reality. He just hopes that they're still in time.


	14. Letting the dogs out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains emotional content WRT death, grief and guilt; continue at your own discretion.  
> -  
> Somebody on another site called me out for describing Steve's eyes as 'hazel '. Where I come from, hazel or 'mood eyes' can be any color, but will always adapt to the light conditions and/or clothing people wear. Difference of interpretation, I guess.   
> -  
> Matt has to try and come to terms with things; Steve is offering a supportive shoulder.

* * *

Steve calls in for a forensic team on the way over. When they arrive ten minutes later, HPD is already on the scene.

"What's the situation?"

The young officer coughs nervously. "We have one dead person, Commander. A detective from the LAPD."

Steve feels himself grow cold, then asks quietly: "Where is he?"

The young officer nods.

As Steve turns, he sees Matt hunkered down next to a little red Nissan. Walking towards Matt, Steve gets a better view of what he's kneeling next to. Or more accurately, who. It's Gabriel, his throat cut, his midsection a bloody mess; his dark eyes are staring at a point somewhere on the ceiling of the parking garage, but Steve knows he's not seeing anything.

It's not the first lifeless face he's ever seen, but this ... this is different. He feels a lump in his throat, grief bubbling up; then anger. They couldn't save him. They failed. He hears Lou utter a soft "Oh son-of-a-bitch!"

Danny just stands there, one hand at his mouth, then both hands running through his hair as he turns away, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Matt ..." Steve puts his hand on Matt's shoulder, and he feels he's shaking. His heart goes out to the man who has just lost his partner and good friend, and he realizes he must be shocked to the core. All their precautions, all their safety measures have not been enough to save Gabriel. He squeezes the shoulder, trying to convey his understanding, his sympathy, his innate sense of failure.

As Matt turns around, Steve realizes the shaking is not the result of Matt crying; the man is shaking with fury, every muscle tensed and quivering; the eyes looking back at Steve nearly pitch black, liquid with hot rage.

Matt's voice, when he finally speaks, is a low, cold growl. "I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna hunt that little fucking rodent down and then I'll tear him limb from fucking limb!"

Steve sees unadulterated murder in his eyes and doesn't doubt Matt's words for a second. He only hopes they'll catch Rafa before Matt gets a hold of him.

Danny's voice next to them sounds subdued and quiet. "Matt? Hey Matt? I think you need to get back to the hospital. You've been bleeding pretty bad."

Steve's eyes drop down as Matt himself looks down at his t-shirt. The left side is drenched with blood, and a lot of it has seeped through into his sweat pants, down to his leg. "Hey man, I think Danny's right. We need to get you looked at by the doctor."

Matt shakes his head, his eyes going back to Gabriel. "Can't." He looks up, tears now in his eyes. "Can't leave the kid here. He has nobody else, Steve." The sadness and sorrow in Matt's voice are heart breaking.

Steve sighs, then puts a hand on Matt's shoulder again. "We'll stay here until Max Bergman arrives, OK? When he takes Gabriel back to Pathology, then we'll get you back to the hospital."

Steve's not sure if Matt has heard him, but he decides that's how they'll do it. Matt is in obvious need of medical care, but he knows he won't be able to make him move from Gabriel's side. They silently stand vigil next to the young detective's body for another ten minutes until Max arrives.

The little pathologist coughs softly to announce his arrival. "Gentlemen, I offer my sincerest condolences. Detective Martinez was a very likeable man with a good eye for details, I must say."

Matt stares at him, then nods curtly.

"Now, please allow me to examine the, ehm, body so I can ascertain certain facts regarding his death." As Matt shakily stands up, Max eyes grow wide at his bloody t-shirt. "Detective Sterling, is your t-shirt something which might need to be secured in order to correctly process this crime scene?"

"No Max, the blood is not from Detective Martinez" Steve clarifies.

Max nods, understanding. "Ah, I see. In that case I would suggest that Detective Sterling seek medical aid at his earliest possible convenience. From what I can see, the amount he has lost may start impairing his functioning fairly soon."

Steve frowns, and turns around to Matt. He can see he is very pale, and none too steady on his feet, watching Max's every move like a hawk.

"Lou, think you could go over to the main lobby and get a wheel chair?" Steve quietly asks the big man standing next to him. "I think Matt here might need one in a minute or so." Lou looks at Matt, then nods and heads out to the lobby.

"Max, do you think you can close his eyes?" Danny sounds subdued. He's watching Max's quick inspection of Gabriel's body, but is seriously upset by the young man's eyes still staring into infinity. He is deeply disturbed to see those soulless eyes, which recently still sparkled with boyish humour and quit-witted intelligence. He doesn't think it does Matt any good either.

Max looks up, then glances over to Matt. Almost compassionately, he says: "Detective Sterling, would you like to do the honour of closing his eyes? I have processed everything I need for now, you may touch the body if you like."

Steve and Danny watch quietly as Matt nearly stumbles forward, then kneels next to Gabriel. He gently touches the young man's face, whispering "I'm sorry, kid. I'm _so_ sorry!" Then he glides his fingers over Gabriel's face, and when he removes his hand they see the eyes are closed. Forever.

When Matt gets up again, he falters. Steve and Danny move forward simultaneously and catch him just as his knees start to buckle. "We got you, Matt. Hang on, Lou will be back in a minute and then you can sit down, OK?" Steve sounds gentle as he slings Matt's left arm over his shoulder, being careful not to touch the left side of his upper body.

Matt is not uttering a word; he watches as Gabriel's body is carefully placed into a body bag. Just then Lou comes back with a wheel chair, Matt's doctor at his side. The doctor takes in the scene of the body bag being zipped up, then placed gently on a gurney. Lou apparently has filled him in on the situation, because the young man turns towards Matt with a serious look on his face.

"I am very sorry for your loss; this must be horrible for you."

The sincere words are not acknowledged; Matt just stares as two men slowly roll the gurney towards the exit of the parking garage, then pick it up and place it in the back of the coroner's car. As the car drives off, Matt turns and looks at the pool of blood next to the car. There's a tear slowly rolling down his cheek.

At Steve's nod, he and Danny gently nudge Matt towards the wheel chair. The three Five-0 members accompany the doctor and Matt back to the hospital. Once back in his room, the doctor and Steve carefully take off Matt's t-shirt, then the doctor examines the wound in his shoulder. "Looks like you tore part of the new tissue open, Matt. I'll put in a few new stitches."

Matt remains quiet the whole time while the doctor puts on a pair of gloves, gives him a local anaesthetic, cleans the wound and then deftly puts in three stitches. After putting a fresh bandage on, he snaps off the gloves. "Right, that should do it for now I think. You might want to clean up now; we don't want you to run the risk of an infection."

The fact that Matt still hasn't spoken a single word worries the doctor. He looks at his face, sees the clenched jaw muscles, the deep lines next to his mouth. "I normally wouldn't propose something like this, but I think it may be a good idea if I give you something to sleep. Something that will keep the nightmares at bay."

When Matt looks up, his eyes communicate all the emotions he hasn't spoken. Foremost, it seems as if he tries to convey a plea, begging to be put out of his misery. It leaves the men in the room speechless for a moment.

Scraping his throat, Steve walks up to the bed. "How about I help you get to the bathroom, maybe help you change into some fresh clothes. The doc here" he nods at the young man standing by the bed, "can come back in about fifteen minutes and then give you something to sleep."

Matt turns to look at Steve, seemingly mulling the suggestion over in his mind; then he nods.

"We'll wait outside in the hallway, OK big guy?" Danny smiles at Matt, then opens the door. Lou and the doctor follow him outside into the hallway.

"Is this normal, the way he's just not saying anything?" Lou asks, frowning.

The doctor lets out a little laugh. "Normal is not a term I'd honestly think of using for him." Becoming serious, he continues: "He's had a hell of a shock. And let's be honest, this was about the last thing he needed right now." He looks at Danny. "Do you have any idea what happened, who's responsible for this?"

"Ah, yes, we do actually. Problem is that we don't really have a clue as to where to look for this guy." Danny sounds as frustrated as he feels. At that point his phone rings, and as he looks at Chin's name on the display, he excuses himself to the doctor. "Sorry, but I need to take this call."

Chin's voice sounds emotional. "We heard, Danny. How's Matt holding up?"

Danny sighs. "He's not, actually. Hasn't spoken a word since we got him back to the hospital. Doctor had to put a few new stitches in because he tore his wound to shit running to the garage. Apparently he had Gabriel on the phone when ..." He puts a hand to his mouth, unable to finish his words.

"Oh brah, that's rough! That would drive nearly everybody insane, I think."

Nodding, Danny swallows to get rid of the lump in his throat, then coughs. "Yeah, well, you know, I guess we really need to make sure that we catch this ass-hole. Gabriel was, you know, Gabriel was cool people. We need to get his killer."

* * *

Back in the room, Steve is standing at the bathroom door. "Are you OK in there?" When he doesn't get an answer, he opens the door. Matt is leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, his mouth a tight line. "Do you need some more privacy, or can we change your clothes now?"

Matt turns and looks at Steve, then speaks for the first time, his voice dripping with pain. "I heard it all, Steve. I had him on the phone, wanting to make sure he was OK. He just told me not to worry when I heard a gunshot, and then another one. And then ..." His eyes fill with tears, and the next moment he is sliding down the wall, quietly sobbing.

Steve hunkers down next to him, and without thinking throws his arms around him; Matt leans his head on his shoulder and continuous to sob. "Oh shit, Matt! I'm so sorry! That's totally fucked up, man! I can only imagine ..."

He feels anger coursing through his body, anger at himself for failing to protect the young detective, anger at not being able to apprehend Brody and his gang, anger at this Rafa guy who so callously snuffed out the life of a man he had come to like.

The door of the bathroom creaks open, and Steve sees the young doctor peering around the corner. He simply shakes his head, and the doctor disappears again.

"Matt, I know we fucked up, man. I know we should've done something, _anything_ to keep Gabriel safe, and I wholeheartedly apologize for the fact that we weren't able to save him." Steve means every word he says, and he feels Matt's head lifting off his shoulder. When he pulls back, he sees Matt's eyes are bloodshot, his face wet with tears. But he is shaking his head.

"'s not your fault. He was with me, Steve, with _me_. If anyone's to blame, it's _me_!" The anguish in his eyes is almost palpable.

"The fuck do you mean?!" Steve's voice sounds indignant. "Serious, man? You're laid up in hospital but it's _your_ fault he got killed?! That's one hell of a self-inflicted guilt trip, don't you think?"

And suddenly Steve grasps the root of Matt's problems; understands it because it is something he can completely relate to. Matt feels responsible. He felt responsible for his girlfriend's injuries, and now feels responsible for the death of his friend. Even though both incidents were the result of circumstances beyond his control, he still feels responsible.

"Matt, listen." Steve's voice sounds urgent as he tries to get through to him. "You are _not_ responsible for Gabriel's death, you hear? First of all, you were injured, you were in the fucking _hospital_ man! And second of all: I think that, no matter how tight we would've run this security detail on him, no matter how closely we watched him, they would've found a way. If not now, then in a week's time, or a month's time. Hell, it could have been another five more years!"

Steve's hazel eyes lock with Matt's brown ones, and he sees the glimmer of a realization appear in them. "That's right, Matt. I know all about being responsible, I know everything about wanting to keep control of things." As he speaks, he thinks that, maybe, he has just experienced a realization of his own. "But the fact is, we can't. It's impossible for us to oversee every little detail, every possible chance to prevent mishaps. We can try, and we're probably damn good at it, but we also fail. And when we do, it's because we're just human, Matt. We're not machines, we're not computers. We're human."

Matt's eyes flick over his face, then he lets out a deep sigh. He slumps back against the wall, running a hand over his face. He's quiet for a minute, letting it all sink in.

"Thank you for that analysis, Doctor McGarrett."

Steve looks at him. "Are you taking the piss out of me, Matt?"

Removing his hand, Matt stares at him. "No man, that's my feeble attempt at hiding the fact that I'm embarrassed about crying on your shoulder." He looks at Steve's shirt. "Now we both need clean clothes." He sighs. "As for your observations, I think you may be spot on."

Steve looks at Matt. The pain is still there, but he looks calmer. "Think you're gonna be OK?"

Matt shakes his head. "No, I don't think I'll ever be OK about this. This will hurt forever." He sighs. "But will I be OK in knowing that there's damn little I could've done, that _we_ could've done to prevent it? Yeah, I think so. At least, that's something I will need to believe."

Getting up, Steve reaches out to Matt. "Come on, let me help you up, then we get you cleaned and into bed." He carefully hoists Matt up from the bathroom floor. "Where can I find clean sweats and a t-shirt?" Matt nods towards a small cupboard in the corner. Steve makes sure Matt is securely leaning against the wall, then opens the cupboard and gets out a change of clothes.

"I think I need clean boxers as well." Steve freezes. When he turns, he sees there's a little smile playing around Matt's mouth. "I'll spare you the indignity of having to help me with that. Just turn your back."

Steve smirks, hands Matt a pair of clean boxers, then turns his back. He hears him grunt behind his back. "Can you manage?"

Some more grunts, then Matt says: "I got the crown jewels all tidied away. You can turn around now." Matt's face is deadly pale again, and his breathing laboured.

"Sit down here" says Steve, as he guides Matt to the toilet. He puts socks on his feet, then sticks them in the legs of clean sweat pants. Next, he carefully guides a t-shirt first over his left arm, then his head and finally over his right arm. Then he helps Matt stand and pulls up his sweat pants. By now Matt is shaking with exhaustion; Steve feels him leaning heavily on his shoulder as they make their way back into the room. The doctor is sitting by the window and jumps up to help put Matt back into bed.

"Good thing we didn't remove your IV cannula yet" says the doctor after Matt is settled in. He sticks his head outside the room, then holds the door open for a nurse coming in with an IV standard. She hooks Matt up the IV, then attaches him to the heart monitor behind him on the wall.

"Now, are you comfortable?" When Matt nods, the doctor takes a syringe from the side-table. "Good, then I hope this will help you get some much needed sleep." The contents of the syringe are injected into the IV line, and Matt's face relaxes almost immediately. Within minutes, he's in deep sleep. The heart monitor beeps with a slow, steady rhythm.

Motioning to Steve, the doctor holds the door and they all step out into the hallway. "Was that a breakthrough he had in the bathroom?" He throws Steve a curious look.

"More of a melt-down, I think" sighs Steve. "But yeah, he may have had a breakthrough as well." The doctor nods. "Seems the two of you, even though I do detect high tension levels between you, have an innate understanding of each other."

Steve frowns. He hasn't thought about it that way, but the doctor may be right; he and Matt do seem to instinctively understand each other, even though both their tempers get in the way more often than not. "Probably because we have similar backgrounds. Something like a professional understanding."

The doctor looks at him. "Well, for whatever it's worth: I think you did him a huge service back there. Matt doesn't appear to me as somebody who easily confides in another person, or trusts somebody else for that matter."

Steve smirks. "That makes two of us then. So, how long will he sleep do you think?"

The doctor shrugs. "Hard to say. He might wake up later this evening, but I think it's safe to say that this will keep him quiet until tomorrow. God knows the man can use some rest."

Steve nods, then walks over to Danny and Lou. "OK guys, how about we go back to HQ and see if we can't corner Brody and his company? I think all this has gone beyond the point of acceptable. We need to put an end to this!"

* * *

Joe puts down the phone, frowning. He looks over his shoulder at Doris, who raises an eyebrow.

"That was Steve. Matt's partner, Gabriel Martinez, was killed this afternoon. Seems the gang he infiltrated years ago finally managed to settle their score with him."

He hears Doris exhale with a shocked sound. "Oh no!"

He walks over to the couch, puts an arm around her. "Apparently Matt aggravated his injuries; he went running to try and save Gabriel. They have him under sedation so all this won't set him back too far with regard to his recovery."

Doris is quiet for a moment. "I'm sure that was the smart decision to make. What did Steve want from you?"

Joe sighs. "He had the same question he always has for me, Doris. Did I know where you were?" Doris grins, and Joe emits an exasperated sound. "You really like this cat & mouse game, don't you?" He sighs. "Anyway, he also said he wanted to talk to you about Matt." He looks at her. "Now why would he want to talk to you about Matt?"

"He became suspicious about my motives for being in the hospital the other night. And he guessed a few things that I just couldn't, or didn't want to deny any longer." Doris looks up at Joe. "So I had to tell him part of the truth. How I had promised to look out for the Sterling boys."

Joe's eyes bore into hers. "How did he take that?"

She shrugs. "As he usually does with this type of thing; not believing a word, second-guessing motives."

Joe grins. "Sounds to me like he takes after his mother." At her indignant look, he hugs her close. They sit quietly for a while.

"I could try and see whether some of my old contacts have anything on unusual drug shipments coming off Oahu."

Doris looks at Joe, who sighs. "I'm not sure Steve will be too pleased if he learns us 'old folk' are butting into his affairs."

Shrugging, Doris calmly states: "He'll live. And if we can help solve this, it will make matters easier for us as well."

Joe raises an eyebrow. "Honey, do you ever do things without a hidden agenda?"

As she shakes her head, smiling, he sighs again.

* * *

It has been dark for several hours already when a figure moves stealthily across the porch of the house on Ohai Street. It freezes at the sound of a creaking chair, then a voice speaking from the dark.

"Is it happy tidings yer bringing?"

The figure relaxes. The flare of a lighter shows the gaunt face of Rafa, his dark eyes peering at where the voice is coming from. The flame disappears at the audible *click* of a Zippo, followed by the pungent aroma of tobacco.

"Depends on who you like to be happy; you, or that _cabron_ Martinez."

Brody sighs. "Now don't be a tool, Rafa. I'm not in the mood to play Twenty Questions. Did you get the job done?"

A snigger can be heard. "Aye, Irish, the job is done. One less _rata_ to worry about."

Rafa hears Brody utter a content sigh. "Good."


	15. Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to pick up the pieces after tragedy has struck.

* * *

 "In it's purest form, an act of retribution provides symmetry."

\- Emily Thorne -

* * *

Three weeks have passed. Weeks in which Five-0 has managed to almost exactly pinpoint the location where Brody and the Hazard members are holed up. Weeks in which Joe and Doris have tapped into their resources to find out more about Brody's activities on the island. Weeks in which Matt has healed up sufficiently to be discharged from hospital and start following therapy.

When the orders came through for Matt to return to LA, he placed numerous calls to his superiors, in the end persuading them that he could stay on Oahu until the case was closed. It had been pretty obvious that he would do so anyway, even if he received orders to the contrary. He owed it to Gabriel to bring both Brody and Rafa to justice.

And during all this, there had been the moment where they said goodbye to Gabriel. After making the difficult phone call to Gabriel's grandparents, Gabriel's _abuelito_ and _abuelita_ decided that Oahu should be Gabriel's final resting place. "Leave him there, _Mateo_ " his grandmother had said. "I don't want him to be buried in soil where he's only known violence. And he told us he loved the sea there."

In the end, with the help of Five-0, Matt had decided on a cremation and then a _paddle-out_ ceremony to scatter Gabriel's ashes in the sea.

Sitting within the small circle of surfers, in a canoe, Matt had spoken of Gabriel's youth, his charm and his enormous courage, his unswerving loyalty to his friends and partner.

Steve had spoken of how Five-0 had come to appreciate and like the young detective's quick wit and never-ending jokes, and how sad they all were they had not been able to save him.

When the moment came that Matt turned out the contents of the urn into the water, seeing what was left of his friend be absorbed into the blue ocean, a sense of peace had come over him.

Then the Five-O members had taken off their _leis_ and placed them on the water.

It was a beautiful ceremony, filmed by Chin from the canoe so they could send it to Gabriel's grandparents.

Afterwards they had met at a small beach restaurant, ending the day with anecdotes and jokes Gabriel had made, etching the young man into their memories forever.

* * *

When Steve walks into HQ on Thursday morning, there's a large manila envelop on his desk. Frowning, he opens it to find extensive surveillance reports on the activities of both the Hazard members as well as Brody. There's a little note attached in Joe's handwriting. _Happy hunting!_

Riffling through the papers, he sees they cover illegal shipments of drugs with dates, times, and the names of the ships used for transport. There are also still images of Brody, Rafa, and the other two remaining Hazard members. Finally, there's an address: Ohai Street in Wahiawa. Leaning on his desk he's looking at the papers scattered over his desk when Danny comes walking in.

"Danny, have you seen Joe here?"

Danny lifts an eyebrow. "Joe? You mean the man who is as elusive these days as your mother? The one equally skilled at the I'm Not Saying A Thing game? _That_ Joe? No, I haven't seen him. Why?"

Steve stares at Danny for a second, wanting to say something; then he just indicates the papers on his desk. "Seems he has run his own little investigation of Brody and his buddies."

Danny walks over to take a look, grabbing one of the photos off the desk. "Well, I'd say it's not just Joe involved here; I recognize the distinct camera art of your mother in this picture. Plus her reflection in the car window here." He points. "I guess this gives them more excitement than playing bingo at the retirement home."

Steve throws him another look, then shakes his head.

"What?! Serious Steven, can you picture those two resigning themselves to a life of drinking tea, discussing the weather and crossing off numbers on a card? It's more likely they just start killing off everybody they don't like."

Steve sighs. "OK, Danny. Enough is too much. Let's go through these papers and see how we can hook it into what we've already got." Steve walks out, taking the papers with him, Danny at his heels.

* * *

"Irish, we tracked down who drove that car by the house the past few weeks." Rafa casually leans against the doorpost, hands in his pockets.

Brody looks up from the laptop balancing on the armrest of the recliner, then grimaces as he shifts his leg. It still doesn't feel right, and although he can walk, it's with continuous pain. In retrospect, he should've shot the younger vet first, leaving the older, more experienced man to work on his leg. Hind sight is always twenty-twenty.

He raises an eyebrow. "So now it is you want me to read minds. What's the story then?"

Two flat brown eyes meet his cold blue ones and Brody is once again reminded of the fact that Rafa is, in more ways than one, his equal in all matters except final decision making. The man doesn't cower, doesn't flinch when they stare at each other. He wonders if this may cause him trouble one day.

"Somebody opened some graves in a _cementerio._ The _ruco_ behind the wheel is like Five-0's McGarrett, a SEAL; his _carnal,_ old friend and teacher. The _puta_ he had with him is McGarrett's mother." Rafa keeps staring at Brody, waiting for a reaction. He's not disappointed.

Brody slowly closes the laptop, a frown appearing on his brow. "So now it's their family they're bringing in. It's desperate short of hands they are, it seems." He mulls the information over in his mind. "But it does present some fine opportunities."

Rafa nods. That's exactly what he's been thinking.

* * *

The coffee table at the little house on Papai Street is strewn with papers, files, yellow notes. Matt sits on the edge of the couch, holding a Longboard in his right hand, his left hand absent-mindedly rubbing over the healing scab on his head. He is like a dog worrying a bone, going over and over the case in the hope of finding one more detail, one more scrap of info that they may be able to use to slam this case shut once and forever.

When his phone rings, he doesn't even really register the sound at first. It stops, then starts ringing again, and this time he picks it up, frowning. "Sterling."

It's Steve. "What's up, Matt? You had me worried there for a second when you didn't answer the first time."

Matt's mouth lifts in a half-sided little smile. "You sound like my mother, McGarrett. Stop it." He can hear Steve snigger at the other end.

"I'm way too pretty to be your mother, Sterling." Matt groans, and Steve laughs out loud, then continues on a more serious note. "Anyway, we've received some additional surveillance info on Brody and the Hazard members. Seems we may actually have an address."

Matt can't believe his ears. "How the hell did you get a hold of that?!"

He hears Steve scrape his throat on the other end. "Well, no info over the phone, but if you want I can swing by tonight and fill you in on some of the details."

"Yeah, please do. I've been going stir crazy here" Matt sighs.

Steve laughs. "I can imagine. When will you be cleared for duty again?"

"Physically as soon as I can handle it, which would've been last year as far as I'm concerned."

"What about the shrink, what did she say?"

Matt is quiet for a while.

"Matt?" Steve is slightly worried at Matt's silence. Whatever their differences in the beginning, he has come to like this man who somehow resembles himself in many ways. And he now wonders whether Matt has heard something which might drastically influence his career.

"There are certain, ehm, conditions attached to my being cleared for active duty again." Matt sounds resigned.

"Which are?" Steve tries to coax him on, wanting to know.

Matt sighs again. "I have to keep coming to therapy once a week for now, maybe less in future. Both here and when I'm back in LA."

Steve starts laughing. "That's it? Man, I thought there was something serious, like brain surgery or a partial lobotomy."

Matt grunts. "Here come the shit jokes about five minute brain surgeries and futile lobotomies."

Steve chuckles. "No, nothing like that. Although in your case surgery ..."

"Shut up, Steve."

Steve laughs again. "OK, I'll see you around seven tonight, is that cool?"

"Yeah fine". As Matt hangs up, he finds himself actually looking forward to seeing Steve that night. _Ain't that a kicker._

* * *

The sudden feeling of slight pressure against the back of her head as she's about to unlock the front door is not totally unfamiliar to Doris; nor is the sound that follows it. She freezes.

"Yer not a complete Mary Banger, are yah?" says a soft, lilting voice behind her, and she knows immediately who it is.

"Cahan Brody I presume? Or what was it, Kevin Dolan?" The pressure against her head increases, and a quick, slight smile appears on her lips. Men; so easy to pull their string.

"Think yer a right smart old broad, don't you. Now open that door, I don't want to attract a crowd here."

She opens the door and steps inside, the pressure on her head never letting off. Somehow she's glad Joe isn't here. He would maybe try something foolish like rush the man behind her, and end up getting killed. The door behind them closes, and she's suddenly swung around by her arm. When she stares into Brody's ice cold blue eyes, she realizes the man really is as crazy as a caged tiger.

"You thought you were the only one smart enough to check up on people? Well, I did a bit of checking myself, wanting to know a little more about who's breathing down my neck on this island. Especially that Five-0 Commander. Seems the man has a mysterious mother who bunks together with some former SEAL. And the two of them like to take drives around dangerous neighborhood."

Doris holds her breath; just a second, but he has already noticed.

"Ah, being on the receiving end of scrutiny feels different, doesn't it." He gives her a cold stare, then smiles. "So, there's been lots of rumors about the relationship between you and your son. Which begs the question: if you were in danger, think he would save yah?"

She coolly stares back at him, not giving him an answer. To be honest, she really doesn't have one.

"Well, it doesn't matter. How does Mrs. McGarrett feel about taking another little trip?" Brody scrutinizes her face, watching for a reaction.

Doris stares back at him, wondering what his intentions are. She's pretty sure she'll find out soon enough. "I really don't feel like a trip, but I'm also fairly certain I have no say-so in the matter."

"And right you are. As a matter of fact" Brody says as he looks out the window, "I think our ride is here." He opens the door and Doris sees a dark blue sedan parked in front of the house. Jamming the gun in the small of her back, Brody pushes her out the door, then opens the rear passenger door of the car. "After you, Mrs. McGarrett. And please don't try anything funny. I'd rather have you alive, but I have no qualms about leaving your dead body on your own doorstep."

Doris gets in, feeling Brody slide in beside her. She recognizes the driver from the surveillance; it's one of the Hazard members. As they leave the driveway and turn onto the main street, she wonders if she'll manage to get out of this one alive. And whether she'll ever see Joe again.

 

 


	16. Mother Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Steve find they have something in common. Or rather, someone ...

* * *

The knock on the door breaks into his train of thought, and Matt growls out an impatient "Who is it?" He watches as the door opens, then sees Steve's head peering around the corner. His first realization is that it must be seven already; his second realization is that he hasn't eaten yet.

"Is it safe? I come bearing gifts." Steve holds up a carton of Longboards, then pushes the door open and walks in.

Matt gets up, limping slightly, and clasps Steve's hand in a firm grip. "Bearing gifts is the only thing that prevents you from getting shot, McGarrett. Smart move."

Steve grins at him, then points to his leg. "Leg bothering you?"

Matt nods. "I guess I'm an Ouch Grouch, like Gabe would call it." He stares off into space for a second, then smiles and shakes his head.

As the two men sit down, popping open a beer, Steve decides to dive straight in. "You never talked about how you got that injury."

Matt looks at him over his beer bottle, taking a swig. As he puts down the bottle, he scrapes his throat. "You're a nosy shit, aren't you? Who says I want to talk about it?"

Steve shrugs, holding up both hands. "Hey, if you don't want to tell me, it's no skin off my back."

Matt stares at him, then sighs. "Oh what the hell, might as well I guess." He gives Steve a condensed version of the events in the Iraqi sand dunes, his hospital stay and the long road towards convalescence afterwards. "The end result is that I'm part Bionic Man; got steel rods and plates supporting the bone and every time I have to go through normal customs procedures at an airport I get treated like I'm a terrorist because I make all the alarms go crazy."

Steve sits looking at him, nursing his beer. "That's pretty intense." He thinks back to something Matt said. "I guess it explains why you're not fond of SEALs as well. What you said about the Hummer ..."

Matt sighs. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm not being fair. It's not you guys, it was the upper echelon that screwed up. And they straightened out fairly well later on, just not in time for me to benefit from it."

Steve nods. "I get it. Guess I would hold a grudge too if some desk jock compromised an OP." He takes a closer look at Matt. "How you holding up with the rest? Is that therapy helping to cope with things?" He watches the big man frown a little.

Matt still isn't comfortable talking about what makes him tick. "Yeah, I guess." He looks up at Steve. "I miss him like crazy, you know? The daily jokes, making fun of me; calling me an Ouch Grouch." He smiles fondly. "He was a good kid with balls as big as brass, and the best to have next to you if shit hit the fan." Matt shakes his head. "I still feel lousy about that undercover operation with the Hazard. Can't believe that in the end that's what ..." He stops talking, an angry frown on his face, and takes a sip from his beer.

Steve leans forward. "That operation had to be sanctioned by top brass, right? And from the little I know about Gabriel, I bet he volunteered for the job."

Matt nods. "As a matter of fact, he did. His past as a gang member was considered really valuable in this case, and he was basically the only one who knew how the gang worked on the inside. Still ..."

Steve shakes his head. "There you go again, taking all the responsibility. Don't. People in higher positions decided on the OP, and Gabriel jumped right in. He knew the risks."

Frowning, Matt stares at him, then sighs. "Yeah, OK. Not my responsibility. I know it, but it doesn't feel that way."

Steve looks at him. "I get that. Really, I do."

They sit in silence for a little while, nursing their beers. Then Matt straightens up. "OK, so tell me: how did you get that additional info on Brody and the others?"

Steve picks up the manila folder he brought with him. "Well, let's just say Joe and my ... Joe had a hand in it." Matt stacks his papers, then Steve dumps the contents of the envelop on the coffee table.

While Matt starts looking at the papers and images, he calmly asks: "Joe and your what, Steve?" Not getting an immediate answer, he looks up, giving Steve a deadpan look. "Your what, Steve?"

Keeping silent, Steve stares back. He made a promise to Doris that he would first inform her if he felt the need to disclose her involvement with the Sterling brothers. Matt keeps looking at him, and Steve suddenly makes a decision. He grabs his phone, sifts through his contacts and then punches the _call_ button when he gets to Doris' name.

After two rings he is switched through to her voice mail. _Hi, if you're trying to reach me, you know the drill._ He waits for the beep, then quickly leaves a message. "It's me, Steve. I promised to inform you if I felt the need to discuss your little secret from the hospital with somebody else. Consider yourself informed." With that he pushes the disconnect button. Looking at Matt, he draws a deep breath.

"My mother."

* * *

Doris stares at the walls of the small room she's confined in. There are no windows, just a small ventilation grate in the wall opposite the door. A door which is made of solid steel. The room contains a mattress with some blankets, and a bucket in one corner, a roll of toilet paper next to it.

Just before Brody shoved her inside, locking the door behind her, he searched her. The hands going over her body had been matter-of-factly but extremely thorough. He had confiscated her phone, told her to take off her shoes, her watch, all her jewelry and the small belt. "Wouldn't want you trying to escape, or hurt one of us or yourself."

She has discovered a pattern; every two hours or so one of the Hazard members comes to check on her, opening the door. And they always carry a gun. Somehow she needs to devise a plan, come up with a solution to take advantage of this. Carefully, methodically she inventorizes the contents of the room again. When her eyes come to rest on the metal handle of the bucket, she smiles.

* * *

Matt stares at Steve, an unreadable look on his face. "Your _mother_?"

Steve nods, watching Matt's reaction.

"What the hell does your mother have to do with all this?"

Scraping his throat, Steve tries to explain. "She's been what you'd call an _operative_ for a long time, and I guess she finds it hard to stop. Snooping around and uncovering secrets is something she likes doing, and from time to time she actually is good at it."

There's an undertone in Steve's voice that doesn't go unnoticed.

"You don't approve." Matt states it calmly.

Steve utters a humorless laugh. "Whether I approve or not doesn't matter. What does matter is that I never knew until fairly recently." He sighs. "Hell, she faked her own death to escape some arch enemies. I believed my mother was dead from the time I was a teenager until just a few years ago."

Matt looks at him. "That must be very rough, finding out your mother is not the person you always thought she was." His voice is soft, and Steve looks at him.

There's an uncharacteristic look of compassion on Matt's face which almost tears him apart. Steve swallows, bows his head. When he looks up again, his face is expressionless. "It is as it is. Doesn't matter."

What Matt says next, totally blows his mind. "Well, for whatever it's worth, your mother has been snooping around my life for fucking forever."

Steve gives him an incredulous stare. "You _know_ about that?"

Matt stares right back at him. "Yeah, but how come _you_ know about it?"

Steve just shakes his head, then takes a swig from his beer. He swallows it, frowns, then puts the beer down. "OK, here's what I know. When you were in hospital and your brother, ehm ..."

"Jim."

"Right, Jim came to visit you, she gave him this song and dance about visiting with you because you didn't have any family here."

Matt looks at him. "She visited me?"

Steve nods. "Yeah, she was sitting in your room by herself, watching you."

There's something that tries to click in Matt's mind, something that has a familiar ring to it. "Oh man! When you say she's an 'operative', what exactly do you mean by that? Was she attached to an agency?"

For a second Steve doesn't know what to tell him, then decides he has a right to know. "As far as I know she was, or maybe even still is, CIA."

Matt utters a short bark of a laugh. "Jesus Christ! That was _her_!" He sits, shaking his head, trying to make sense of it all.

"What are you talking about?" Steve has a bewildered look on his face. He watches Matt rub his face with both hands, then sit back.

"When I was in Germany, after being evaced from Iraq, this woman came to visit. I just had surgery on my leg and was really out of it, so I didn't see her. I just heard a voice, asking questions. When I managed to pull myself together and, you know, surface into consciousness, she had just left the room." Matt shakes his head again. "I asked my doctor who it was, and all he could tell me was that she was CIA."

Steve stares at him. He's totally shocked by the level of his mother's involvement in the life of a man he has known for just over a month. And he's even more stunned to find out that, while he thought she was dead, she had been actively involved in Matt's life. For some unexplainable reason, that knowledge hurts. He grabs his beer off the table and takes a long swig.

Matt scrutinizes him, trying to read him. He can see Steve's upset about something, and he suddenly knows why. "Oh shit, hey, I'm sorry man." Steve looks at him over his beer, his eyes dark with emotion. "I should've realized what that means to you, after what you just told me."

Steve puts down his beer. "Great. You're gonna use this for another guilt trip now?" He sees anger flash in Matt's eyes, then realizes he isn't being fair. "Sorry, didn't really mean that."

Matt glowers at him, then growls: "Pretty shitty remark, McGarrett, considering it's _your_ mother who has been digging through my life."

Sighing, Steve nods. "Yeah, OK. So let me fill you in on the details she told me." He tells Matt what Doris revealed to him in the hospital after he confronted her. He doesn't leave anything out, as he thinks Matt has the right to know everything he can tell him.

Matt sits back, looking at Steve. It's a strange sensation, knowing that there's a link between them, a link wrought by this woman who apparently dropped out of the life of her own son and then jumped into that of a complete stranger. He sighs. "Thanks for telling me that, Steve."

Steve nods, relieved that the sudden tension between them has disappeared. He still finds it hard to make heads or tails out of it all. Matt's next remark completely takes him by surprise.

"Except there's one problem with that version of the story."

Matt's dark eyes stare at him, but Steve is unable to read what Matt is thinking right now. "What's that?"

"I saw your mother at Graduation Day at Parris Island a full year and a half before my parents died in that car crash." Matt purses his lips. "She's been hovering around a lot longer than she says. And by now I'm aching to find out why."

Steve's hand holding the beer bottle hovers just before his mouth. _The bitch!_ She lied to him. Again. He takes a huge gulp, making his eyes water, then sets down the beer on the table. "That makes two of us, Matt. I can tell _you_ one thing though; trying to get information out of Doris McGarrett is like trying to make fire with ice. Fucking impossible."

The two men morosely stare at each other, both caught in their own thoughts. They now have a common denominator; a woman who supplies them with endless questions and just a few scant answers. And of those answers, over ninety percent may be false.

"How about Joe? Is he able to answer some of the things? Maybe we should ask him." Matt looks at Steve, who takes another swig from his beer and then clears his throat.

"Yeah, well, good luck with that one." Matt lifts an eyebrow, and Steve sighs. "I love Joe, never doubt that. He's been my mentor, my friend and on several occasions has helped save my ass out of some pretty hairy situations. But as far as answering questions, those two are like two peas in a pod."

Matt shifts in his seat, then lifts his left leg and plunks it down on the coffee table, rubbing the back. "Looks like we're back to square one then. Guess we don't get to find out what her agenda is until she decides to share."

Steve salutes him with his beer. "Welcome to my world."

* * *

Doris is sharpening the end of the bucket handle on the concrete floor with brusque movements.

At first she tried using the handle to loosen the ventilation grid over her head, but found that the distance was just too far to get any real leverage. Then she had hooked one end of the handle in the grid and had patiently wiggled it to and fro until the end broke off due to metal fatigue.

Next, she had used her foot and hands to loop and then twist the other end of the handle over itself, providing her with a solid grip. Moving the mattress over to hide the scuff marks, she had started to hone a sharp point to the handle.

Instinctively timing the moments when they came to check on her, she had pushed the mattress back into position, hiding the scuff marks and handle underneath it, long before the door would open.

Checking, she is satisfied to find she has turned the bucket handle into a deadly weapon; a grip on one end and almost eight inches of straight metal ending in a long, razor sharp point at the other.

Getting up, she quietly moves to the door, positioning herself flat against the wall.

All she has to do now is wait.

* * *

Steve and Matt are dissecting the information supplied by Joe and Doris, when Matt notices something. "Steve, look; there's a pattern in these shipments." He pushes a piece of paper towards Steve. "As far as I can tell, the shipments take place every Tuesday and Friday."

Looking at the paper, running his finger by the dates, Steve nods. "You're right." He looks at Matt." Which means there will be another shipment tomorrow." Matt stares at him, dark eyes intense. "You want in, don't you" Steve asks him.

Matt nods.

"Think you can handle it? With your leg being out of sorts and all, I mean."

Steve's question is answered by a shrug. "The leg is nothing, just a nuisance. Usually, when we're ... when I'm on a case, I just forget about it until afterwards."

Steve scrutinizes the man sitting across from him. "As long as I can be certain that none of your injuries or other assorted problems will jeopardize either the operation or the team."

Matt raises an eyebrow. "You should know better than that, Steve. I may be a hot head, but I've never let my temper get in the way of any OP, be it with the LAPD or the Det. And I've certainly never allowed it to put my partner in any danger." Matt suddenly and unexpectedly grins. "You seem to have quite a temper yourself, BTW. If the right buttons are pushed."

Steve manages to sound indignant when he replies. "Hey, that was because you threw my Second-in-command across the hallway!"

Matt laughs. "Actually, that wasn't even what I was talking about. A while back, Gabe told me a story about a certain ex-SEAL who showed his brand new partner that he really didn't like having a finger stuck in his face." He grins as Steve actually blushes a little, looking uncomfortable.

"Ah, yes, that. Seems the same story is still going around HPD as well."

"Well, for your information: I don't like it when people do that either." Matt smiles. "Anyway, what time do you want me to report for duty?"

Steve pulls a paper from the manila folder he just picked up from the table and looks at it. "Seems the shipment will come in around Noon. Just make sure you're at HQ no later than eight. That way we'll have plenty of opportunity to go over the OP."

Matt nods, then gets up and walks Steve to the door. Just before he walks out, Steve turns around. "And Matt, just so there's no misunderstanding ..."

Matt knows what's coming. "Yeah, yeah. You're in charge. Don't worry, I'll be good."

Steve grins at him, then walks down the driveway towards his car. "See you tomorrow, Matt."

* * *

Doris tenses as she hears noise by the door. If they stay true to form, it will be the slightly taller Mexican coming to check on her now. She adjusts the angle of her aim and waits, poised to strike. As soon as the door opens she pivots on her right foot and sharply thrusts her hand forward and upward, driving the sharpened end of the handle through the man's windpipe and up towards his brain stem. Uttering a small gurgling sound, he goes down like a ton of bricks.

Quick as a snake she darts down and retrieves the gun he has dropped. As she looks down to check whether the safety is on, she is violently pistol whipped across the right side of her face and kicked in the stomach. Stumbling backwards over the body she manages to break her fall with her left hand, feeling her wrist snap as her weight comes down on it.

When she glances up, cradling her left hand in her lap, her right hand touching her face and coming away sticky and wet, she looks into the cold eyes of Cahan Brody. "You daft old woman! Thought I'd not see this coming, not anticipate you doing something like this?"

He stares down at her, then kicks the inert body of the Hazard member on the floor. "Rest assured that I will pay you back for this inconvenience. For now, I need you alive. So stop your shenanigans, or a broken wrist is going to be the least of your worries!"


	17. The game is up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: With this chapter, the story is now fully synchronized with the other site.  
> -  
> Steve has to make a difficult choice, but finds he has back-up in the moment of truth.   
> Danny has an epiphany, then wishes he hadn't.

* * *

 

"And this is where the bovine scatology is about to hit the ventilation system."  
\- General H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Operation Desert Storm (1991) -

 

* * *

 

They're crowded around the conference table at HQ, nursing mugs of coffee, listening and discussing Steve's plans for the drug bust that day. Matt is very quiet, paying close attention, absorbing the details. He has to admit: the plan is sound, the outlines clear. Steve is good at what he does.

Afterwards, when they're getting together their gear, checking their weapons and securing sufficient ammunition, Danny walks up to Matt. "Are you gonna be OK?"

Matt turns and stares at him, and Danny feels a shiver running down his spine. The eyes looking back seem hungry somehow, have a predatory look in them. A look which is similar to that which he has seen on Steve's face sometimes, but colder; deadlier somehow.

"After what they did to Gabriel; what do you think, Danny?" A small smile appears on Matt's face, never reaching his eyes. "I'll be OK. It's time we put an end to this."

Danny nods, then walks off looking for Steve. He finds him in his office, checking his P226. "Steve, do you really think, I mean ... should Matt be in on this OP?"

Steve throws him a surprised look. "Why wouldn't he be? If there's anybody who has the right to be in on this, it's Matt. And he's been cleared for duty. Why?"

Looking at the group standing near the conference table, Danny stares thoughtfully at Matt. "I don't know. There's something in his eyes, something ... I don't think he's going out there to make arrests, know what I mean?" When he turns around and looks at Steve, he sucks in his breath. Just for a second, he sees an echo of the look he's seen in Matt's eyes in those of his partner.

"Yeah, well, if I was in the same situation, if Brody or Rafa had killed you ... I don't think I'd be out making arrests either, Danny." And with that Steve walks out of the office.

* * *

Doris looks up when the door of the small room confining her opens. The cool air rushing in causes her to break out in goose bumps; having used her blouse as a make-shift sling for her arm, she is now wearing nothing but a sleeveless shirt. She watches as Brody and Rafa walk in. Shifting on the mattress, a flare of pain shoots through her wrist. She ignores it, seizing up her captors, wondering what they have planned for her.

"Top of the morning to you, Mrs. McGarrett." The warm greeting doesn't reach the ice cold eyes. "I see you have performed some first aid on yourself. Very resourceful, I must say."

She doesn't bother to answer, just stares at him.

Brody sighs, then walks up to her and grabs her right arm, hauling her off the mattress. "Now don't be thinking of trying to escape. I have a busy morning and no time to be dealing with a cunning old woman." He pulls a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket's pocket, then hands them to Rafa. "Make sure the lady is secured, will you?" Turning back to Doris, he smiles. "Just a precaution. I'm not sure even a broken wrist would be enough to stop you from being foolish."

While Brody aims a gun at her, Rafa roughly pulls her arm out of the make-shift sling, then yanks her hands behind her back. This time she can't ignore the white hot pain, and she hisses between her teeth. The cuffs force her wrist to bend in an angle, and she can actually feel the bones grating against each other. It leaves her a little light headed.

Brody calmly stares at her. "So, like I said, I have a busy morning. And you'll be coming along to make sure your son, if he decides to put in an appearance, won't do anything stupid."

Looking down, a little smile appears on her lips. When she lifts her head again, she's still smiling. "You don't know Steven. If he has to choose between my safety and putting an end to your operation, to _you_ , he won't make the wrong choice." She grins as Brody actually turns a little pale, then hisses in pain as Rafa grabs her arm and drags her out of the room.

* * *

The Five-0 team quietly enters the terminal site, moving between the containers. Lou, Chin and Matt spread out to the right; Steve, Danny and Kono to the left. They have their eyes focused on the men standing near one of the dock cranes, next to two small vans.

Steve frowns. He sees Brody, Rafa and Alfredo Soto; however, there are five heavily armed Hawaiians as well, whom he immediately recognizes as being part of a small but fanatic local drug running group. They are an independent bunch, without set leadership, and therefore hard to catch.

Brody has bought himself some backup.

He peers over to the right, catching Chin's eye. Quickly signalling, he indicates he has eyes on eight men, watching Chin nod in confirmation. The team settles in to wait for the arrival of the drugs shipment.

After twenty minutes their patience is rewarded; they see a double-hulled _wa'a_ or outrigger canoe paddling quickly towards the group of men on the dock.

_Clever_ thinks Steve. The drugs are obviously loaded off a ship anchored off-shore, then transported by canoe to attract less suspicion. He watches as package after package is handed up from the canoe to the men standing on the dock. As soon as he gives the sign, he knows the Coast Guard will spring into action, as he has made sure they're in on the operation. He only needs to concern himself with Brody and his men.

When he sees the canoe moving away, and Brody's men are nearly finished loading the drugs into one of the two vans parked on the dock, he gives the signal to ' _Go!'_

As expected, all hell breaks loose as the men near the crane start firing at the Five-0 team. Three of the five Hawaiians are taken out almost instantly. Brody has ducked behind one of the vans, careful not to expose himself to the deadly aim of Steve and his team.

Suddenly, Soto and Rafa break away to the right, running and ducking between the cranes. Matt and Chin immediately follow them, while Lou is pinned down by one of the remaining Hawaiians, cursing as he returns fire.

Soto and Rafa break up, and Matt instinctively zeroes in on Rafa.

He still remembers the day he had seen him standing over Gabriel, ready to cut his throat, as Gabriel's position within the Hazard gang had been compromised. Rafa, who had beaten his partner within an inch of his life then. Who had come all the way from California to Oahu to finish the job.

He has a score to settle with him.

Matt chases Rafa all the way to the end of the dock, a maze of shipping containers, crates and pallets. For a moment he loses sight of his suspect, then a bullet whizzes by, coming from above him. Matt barely manages to duck behind the container, uttering an expletive. The Chicano is quick on his feet and very agile, and has climbed one of the big cranes.

There's laughter coming from the direction where the man is hiding. "What's the matter, detective?" taunts a voice. "Not so fleet on your feet? You run like a _borracho_ , a drunk!" He hears him snigger, then: "Must be that Hawaiian air getting to you, all crispy and clean. Not like the good ol' pollution we have back in LA, no? Makes you slow, just like your partner, that _rata_ Martinez."

Anger is coursing through Matt at Rafa's taunts, but the next words cause his veins to fill with ice water.

"You should have heard him when I stuck him in the throat, Detective. He squealed just like the pig he was."

A dull rage starts at the pit of his stomach. The next moment it's like a switch is thrown inside his mind; the reverse transition from 'just a cop' to DET-1 marine happens in less than a second flat. All his senses are set to high alert, and he tunnel-visions, zeroing in on his target. _Gabe's killer._

He quickly takes in his surroundings. There's the container he's hiding behind, several more of them over to his left; over to his right is a stack of pallets. Calculating the distance, he makes a beeline for the pallets.

Shots ring out, and he feels one of them actually singe the hair on his forearm. Falling on his back, it takes less than a second to take aim, then squeeze off two rounds. He hears a short scream, feeling a cold flash of satisfaction as he sees Rafa jerk as one of his bullets strikes him in the chest.

Rafa tumbles backwards from the crane, grasping desperately for something to hold on to, his hands encountering nothing but empty space. He utters another scream, cut short as he hits the water and submerges.

Matt walks up to the edge of the dock; when he looks down, Rafa has surfaced again, weakly treading water. " _Por favor_ , help me, man!" Rafa's hand reaches up to his, and if he bends down far enough he may be able to grab it, may succeed in pulling the man to safety.

He doesn't.

Words fill his mind, the motto of the LAPD. _To Protect and to Serve._ To protect ... he hasn't been able to protect Gabriel. Hasn't been able to save him from this bastard.

Matt coldly stares down into Rafa's face, seeing a horrified look pass over the other man's features as he realizes that rescue will not be forthcoming; realizes that his fate is sealed. His head disappears beneath the water again, as he becomes too weak to keep himself above water.

When Chin comes running up, he's just in time to see a hand disappear beneath the water's surface, then watches in silence as he catches a glimpse of Rafa's body sinking. Matt is looking down, motionless, his hands down by his side.

"What happened?!" Chin asks breathlessly, but he doesn't seem to get through to Matt. He knows better than to touch Matt's arm, so instead he repeats the question. "Matt, what happened, brah?"

"I shot him and he fell from the crane; just slipped and fell in. It was too deep, too far for me to try and get him out." He states it matter-of-factly, like discussing an accidentally broken glass.

Next Matt looks up at him, his brown eyes calculating, cold and hard. Chin feels a tiny shudder as he realizes he's looking into the eyes of man who cold-bloodedly signed another human being's death warrant. For a second Chin wonders if the same look had been on his own face when he shot Frank Delano.

The next moment Matt's eyes come alive again, lose their calculating, cold stare. "Where's Soto?"

Chin frowns. "He got away. Won't get far though, I managed to shoot him in the leg."

Matt nods. "Let's get back to the others, see if they can use our help."

* * *

Steve and the rest of the team have finally managed to take out the remaining two Hawaiians, hiding between the two vans.

Brody, ducking between containers, has managed to slip into the open door of one of them.

Kono sees him and signals Steve, who in turn motions to Danny and Lou, pointing at the container. They are quick to move in closely to the open doors, ready to act. Steve notices Matt and Chin rejoining them, acknowledges them with a nod of his head. Just as Steve's about to signal to move in, Brody re-appears from the open container. Steve freezes, feeling his blood run cold.

The Irishman is holding Doris, her hands behind her back, a knife at her throat. The knife is digging in deep enough for blood to trickle down into her white shirt, staining the top.

What's more, Steve can see a nasty laceration on the right side of her face, which appears swollen. And every time Brody yanks on her left arm to force her to take another step, she flinches in obvious pain.

A confusing mix of emotions suddenly engulfs him, all trying to vie for first place; shock, anger, fear, anxiety, insecurity. Anger wins, then turns into white hot rage. That's his _mother_ Brody is holding, and whatever their relationship may be, no matter how conflicting his emotions are with regard to Doris, he has _no_ right to put her life in danger. No right to use her as a negotiating tool. And as far as Steve's concerned, any chance of negotiation stops right there.

Glancing quickly at his team mates, he sees the confused and shocked looks on their faces; the sudden, unexpected appearance of Doris has completely unnerved them for the moment. He throws another look at Brody.

"That's right, McGarrett. I got Mommy Dearest. If you want her to live, throw down your weapons, and let us take one of the vans unhindered. You have ten seconds. One ... two ... three ..."

Doris is about to say something - Steve is pretty sure it will be something snide - but Brody digs the knife even deeper into her neck, the blood changing from a trickle to a steady stream. Steve's eyes narrow in anger.

"Four ... five ... she doesn't have much time left, McGarrett."

Doris is looking straight at Steve, her eyes never wavering, and he can almost hear what she's trying to convey to him. _Never mind me, Steven. Get the bastard, finish the mission. The mission always comes first._ He glances to the right, and his eyes meet those of Matt, staring at him with a hard, cold look. Steve gives him an imperceptible nod.

"Six ... seven ... you better hur..."

Two shots ring out, less than a millisecond separating them in time.

It looks as if Brody suddenly grows a pair of angry, red weeping eyes in his forehead. The hand holding the knife goes limp an instant before he topples backwards. It all happens so fast, the Five-0 team members just stare, trying to process what just happened.

Except Steve and Matt. The two men move forward in unison, as if by unspoken agreement.

Danny blinks, then stares at Steve, suddenly glimpsing a side of him which he really doesn't know, really doesn't _want_ to know. A side which has enabled him to run dangerous OPS as a SEAL, to make split second decisions about who dies and who lives.

That's not his friend, his partner, his _buddy_ ; whatever walks there is a single minded, target oriented exterminator. The creepy thing is that the man walking next to him is his mirror image. Their weapons are trained on the still form lying behind Doris, their faces cold, expressionless masks.

Danny glances at Brody, the two red holes in his forehead bearing testimony to the perfect aim of the two men who have just killed him, without a moment's hesitation and with extreme prejudice, all without injuring Doris.

Doris, who remains standing in place, her face calm, her posture erect; it's an inconceivable reaction from somebody who nearly had her throat slit. Unless, of course, you're Doris McGarrett.

Danny watches as Matt kicks away the knife, then bends over Brody to check for a pulse. He knows there won´t be one.

Steve is putting away his weapon, talking to Doris, who nods towards Brody. Steve exchanges a few words with Matt, who bends over Brody again and rummages through his pockets, extracting a set of keys. He hands them to Steve, who unlocks the handcuffs.

That's when Danny catches Doris looking from Steve to Matt and back again; he sees a little smile appear and just as quickly disappear again on her face, remaining just long enough for him to catch it. He frowns, then shakes his head as the rest of the team moves in towards the trio.

* * *

They're back at Five-0 HQ, rehashing and evaluating the events of that afternoon. Matt is sitting at the conference table, typing up his report on a laptop Chin has provided him with, adding his side of the events; all reports will be compiled in one file, which will be added to the thick dossier on Brody.

Steve had gone along with Doris to the hospital where she had her wrist X-rayed, then set and put in a cast. The laceration on her face just needed cleaning, no stitches, and fortunately the violent blow to her face didn't cause any fractures.

Doris had not been able to persuade Steve to take her home; he was adamant about taking her back to HQ first, where she could relax on the couch in his office, then later back home with him so he could look after her. She had looked pale, exhausted.

There was still some fight left in her though. "I don't need looking after, Steven" she had told him.

He had just raised his eyebrows, then reminded her of the fact that he still needed a statement from her. It effectively ended any discussion, and Steve got her settled on the couch, putting a light blanket around her shoulders.

Steve's in his office with Doris, Matt's still working doggedly behind the laptop, and the rest of the team is sitting in their respective offices typing out their own reports when Joe comes storming in, looking anything but his usually in-control self.

"Where's Doris?" The question is almost barked out.

Danny points towards Steve's office where Doris is sitting on the couch, sipping from a mug of tea. Steve is sitting on the edge of his desk, watching her closely, asking her questions about the events she has experienced.

He watches as Joe walks into the office, not sparing a glance for Steve but going straight to Doris. He bends down over her, then sits next to her on the couch, gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Doris actually leans her head against him for a second, then sits up straight again, talking to Joe.

Danny watches the scene unfold, a frown on his face. Then it suddenly hits him. What he sees is not a man concerned about an old friend, worried about the widow of a close buddy. What Detective Daniel Williams sees is a man anxious about the health of his partner, his lover.

_Oh great_ , he thinks, _Prehistoric Wonder Woman and Geriatric G.I. Joe are an item._

And he wonders how it's possible that he hasn't seen this before, how it's possible that the others apparently fail to have seen it as well. Then he realizes that it's because these things are so diametrically opposed to what they accept as normal, that none of them even has the slightest inclination to think in that direction.

Frankly, he feels a little disgusted, as well as disconcerted about the fact that these two are obviously scheming together, may have been for a long time. And he's mad because he knows that Joe will never help Steve answer questions about Doris, will always give him the run around with regard to his mother.

Just then Matt gets up and walks towards Steve's office; he knocks on the door, then enters. He greets Joe, then stares at Doris for a moment. He seems about to say something, then turns to Steve and exchanges a few words. The two men leave the office and sit on the couch near the exit, talking.

Danny watches Doris and Joe exchange a look, a look that somehow seems filled with worry, anxiety. They confer in hushed tones, Joe shaking his head, Doris pressing on, then Joe sighing. And then they both look at the two men sitting on the couch.

Detective Daniel William's mind suddenly goes *CLICK*

Doris' little secretive smile, right after Steve and Matt shot Brody ... he's seen it before, he knows what it is; _recognizes_ it. It's a smile he has seen on Rachel's face on numerous occasions, whenever Grace does something totally awesome like coming in first at a school marathon, or scoring an A-plus on a test.

He realizes the little smile he saw was pride; the pride a parent feels when children perform with excellence. Doris didn't just feel proud of her son, but of her _sons_.

Right on the heels of that realization comes a rush of memories of all the things that _should_ have given it away, that _would_ have clued him in, if it wasn't for the fact that never in a million years Detective Daniel Williams would have even considered the fact that there _really were two of them!_

Just then the two men get up from the couch and start walking towards the PC table. Danny looks at them, and just can't believe it hasn't clicked before, just can't understand why the similarity between the two men hasn't been more apparent, hasn't grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and _forced_ him to see the obvious.

Maybe it's because a first glance shows two very different men. The likeness is in the details.

Matt has inherited Doris' dark eyes and Steve his father's lighter ones, but the overall shape is the same. They're almost the same height, fit and muscular. And as they walk over to stand at the screen, Danny notices with disgust they even walk with the same self-conscious swagger.

Admittedly Matt's looks are overall darker, and he's broader, older; but there's no mistaking the close family relationship between the two. They even have the same quirky, quick lift of the mouth when amused, as well as the habit of touching or biting their lip just before talking, or thinking something over.

What clenches the deal for Danny, though, is that look, that near-mechanical focus both have when zeroing in on a target; that utter focus and dedication when going after something. Or someone.

And both men seem to have a knack for bringing out the worst, the most violent character traits in everybody they consider a suspect. They seem to be armed conflict magnets, with an insatiable drive to being shot, stabbed, punched or otherwise maltreated.

What's worse is that they drag everybody around them into those conflicts with them, like a tornado sucking in debris. And Danny just hates that.

He blames Doris. After all, she's their mother.

 


	18. Murphy's Law ... only worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some pretty graphic descriptions of an accident and unusual combat/wilderness first aid. Not for the squeamish. Really. Don't say I didn't warn you.  
> -  
> NOTE: For this chapter to play out well, I have used the (f)actual location of the McGarrett home, or Bayer Estate situated off Kalanianaole Highway in Honolulu. Just worked out better that way.

* * *

 

Murphy's Quantum Law: "Anything that can, could have, or will go wrong, is going wrong, all at once."

 

Smith's Law: "Murphy was an optimist."

 

* * *

 

Matt drives out of the city centre towards Papai Street, his mind focused on the three things he now needs most; a shower, a beer and a bed. Well, four, if you include dinner. It's almost completely dark, and he feels his mind shutting down further and further as the day's residual light slowly disappears.

He feels emotionally drained by the events at the dock. It's hard to believe it's all over, that Brody and Rafa are dead. A sad little smile plays around his lips as he thinks of Gabriel, wishes he had been there with him to see things finally come to an end.

At least he's avenged him, brought swift justice to his killer.

Seeing Brody hold Doris was an absolute mind blower. When he glanced over at Steve, he'd seen the confusion on his face, followed by pure rage. An instant later the face of Five-0's Commander had turned into a cold mask, something he immediately recognized, was intimately familiar with.

When Steve looked at him, it only took a split second to instinctively understand what he was asking of him, and his eyes signalled he was ready to help him. The wordless communication between the two men was sound, and when Steve nodded, Matt had turned and zeroed in his weapon on Brody.

Both their aims had been deadly accurate.

Walking up to Doris, he actually was in awe of the cool composure of the woman, standing there as if she was waiting for a bus instead of just having had a knife stuck in her throat. He quickly noticed the injuries to her face, and when he checked on Brody and glanced back, he'd seen her wrist, bent at an awkward angle within the handcuff.

Steve had quietly talked to her, making sure she was OK, then asked Matt if he could check Brody's pockets for the keys to the cuffs. She'd hissed when the cuffs were removed, then quickly regained her composure as the rest of the team came towards them.

He stayed in the background afterwards, knowing this was not the time or the place to confront her with any questions. They'd gone to HQ while Steve had taken Doris to Queen's Medical to have her injuries treated. When they came back, Doris was quiet, a little pale.

Later on, when he went into Steve's office, he momentarily stared at her, then saw a quizzical look appear in her eyes. She couldn't have known about Steve telling Matt the story of her involvement in his life, as Brody had taken her phone. However, by now Matt knew the woman was an astute analyst, and somehow she suspected something was up, had realized Matt knew more than she liked him to know. The quizzical look turned into a pensive, calculating stare; then she'd lowered her eyes.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening had been about finalizing details, tying up loose ends, and then shutting the Brody case forever. They all had been emotionally involved to one degree or another, and they were glad it was over and done with.

Then Steve had suddenly invited the team to come to his house later that evening to have some beers, to celebrate the complex mission's positive outcome. Doris declined, said she preferred to go home, as Joe had offered to take care of her. Steve had interpreted that as Joe not wanting to lose her out his sight again, and nodded his understanding. Lou had begged out as well, quoting one of his favorite movies by saying he was "getting too old for this shit" and just wanted to go home and rest his weary bones. Kono was going to be a little later, but was eager to join the men, ready to kick back and relax.

One the one hand, Matt had wanted to go. The roller coaster of events they'd all experienced together had formed a bond, a sense of camaraderie. However, he still felt like the outsider, knew he really wasn't part of the team. Besides that, he just couldn't deal with it all. He was still too blown by everything. More importantly though, knowing Gabriel wouldn't be there with them, wouldn't be sitting there rolling a beer between his hands, cracking jokes, making fun of everybody when not engaged in a serious discussion ... that was the part he really couldn't handle. He just wouldn't, _couldn't_ celebrate, carelessly mingle with the Five-0 team members just like he had done on so many occasions with Gabriel and other colleagues.

And he really had no idea how he'd react when things really started to sink in. Too many of his self-defence mechanisms had been shattered, blown wide these last weeks. The last thing he wanted was to have an 'episode' in front of everybody. He was just too self-conscious.

Trying to explain it to Steve was difficult; he didn't want to appear ungrateful, and he was nearly stumbling over his words when a raised hand stopped him in mid-sentence.

"I get it, Matt. No need to apologize. Some things are just better dealt with when you're alone." Steve had given him a knowing look. "And some things you just can't share with others. I take it you won't leave on the first plane, so there will be another chance to get together."

Looking into the younger man's eyes, Matt had seen that he really did understand his need to retreat. And more importantly, Steve didn't judge him for his choice not to interact with the rest.

He'd smiled, feeling that short moment of wonder he had felt numerous times before, that amazement at how similar they were, how many identical experiences they'd had. They'd both seen hell in its purest form, and they'd both been shaped by it.

The only discordant note was the way Danny kept staring at him, at Steve, at Doris. He looked at them as if they'd all suddenly grown two heads. Matt had been on the verge of asking what was wrong, when Lou had walked up to Danny for one last comparison of notes on the case.

So he'd stayed until everybody was ready to leave, then gracefully begged out. Kono tried insisting he came along, but a look from Steve had halted her efforts. Chin just customarily raised an eyebrow, then went back to shutting down the main computer.

Limping towards the exit, all Matt could think of was the quiet of the little house he temporarily called home. He wanted to battle his ghosts in silence.

* * *

Steve has just hopped out of the shower when he hears his phone ring; wrapping a towel around his hips he goes downstairs to answer it. "McGarrett."

"Commander, this is Officer Keali'i from HPD. There's been a break-in at Five-0 HQ."

Steve's eyebrows shoot up. "A break-in? When? We left just over an hour ago!" The officer fills him in on the details, and Steve frowns, irritated. "OK, I'll be over ASAP."

After he hangs up, he goes upstairs to dry off and throw on some clothes, then runs back down, clips on his gun and badge, grabs a shirt and puts it on, and is almost out the door when he remembers the team will be there shortly. _Shit._

He quickly grabs a piece of paper, writes down _Break in at 5-0; won't be long, beer's in the fridge_ and tacks it to the front door. About to take the keys to the truck, he changes his mind and picks up the keys to the Mercury instead.

It's been a rough couple of weeks, he's tired and the Mercury has been calling him for a while already. And he's got no intention of dragging things out at HQ, planning on returning as soon as possible. All he needs to do is take inventory, then let HPD handle the rest.

Dialing Kono's number to inform her of the change of plans, he's holding the phone with his left hand, casually resting his arm on the rolled down window and using his right to steer the Mercury while pulling out of the drive across the intersection onto Kalanianaole Highway.

* * *

Matt leans back, groaning as he wraps an arm around his chest, which feels as if he's just been kicked by a horse. His nose feels numb and there's blood trickling down his face, a burning sensation on his right cheek, and his ears are ringing as if someone has just fired a gun near his head.

He has no idea what happened.

Noticing the deployed air-bags, he fuzzily comes to the conclusion that he must have hit something, has been in an accident. He releases his seat-belt, then peers over the steering wheel. The front end of his Dodge seems to be buried in the side of another vehicle.

Realizing there's no movement within the other car he gets out, his legs feeling like cotton. A sudden wave of dizziness and nausea hits him as he leans forward over the hood of the Dodge, peering into the other car's window. _Shit!_

He can see an arm bent at an unnatural angle, the watch on the wrist somehow caught on the steering wheel. There's blood oozing down into the guy's rolled up sleeve shirt but he can't make out the rest of him as he's leaning towards the other side. Legs wobbly and unsteady, he staggers around the car, then yanks open the passenger door.

He hisses, both at the sharp pain in his chest as well as the scene inside the car.

The man is slumped over the passenger's seat. There's blood on the left side of his face, seeping from a weird square depression on his cheekbone, joined by more blood from a wound somewhere in his hair. It's pooling underneath the right side of his head which is pressed into the seat; his breathing is rapid and shallow, as if he isn't getting enough air into his lungs.

Matt fumbles for his phone but it's not in his pocket, probably fallen out due to the crash and lying somewhere in his car. He doesn't think the other guy has enough time for him to go search for it and decides to forgo calling 911 for now. "Right, OK, let's do this" he mumbles to himself and leans into the car.

The interior light is barely bright enough for him to see as he quickly tries to establish what to do next, forcing his fuzzy mind to remember the emergency medicine he learned. He'll have to untangle the watch from the steering wheel first and free the guy's arm; the watch's clasp, half open, seems caught in the upholstery material.

Matt puts a knee on the seat next to the man's head and, using his right hand to support the obviously broken arm, uses his left hand to try and carefully pull the watch off the steering wheel. The man groans. It won't budge, he pulls harder, and it suddenly lets go unexpectedly, causing the man to yell, a hoarse, pain filled sound muffled by the seat.

Moving quickly, Matt proceeds to undo the man's seat-belt, or at least tries to. It won't open. _Great_ , _just what I need_. Ignoring the pain in his ribs he quickly reaches back for the knife always clipped to his belt, flicking it open, bringing it up and cutting through the seat-belt in one motion.

Now unrestrained, the man's upper body slumps further down on the seat and he emits a weak groan. Matt notices the extended veins and fluttering pulse in the guy's neck, and knows he needs to move fast. He turns the man's upper body to the left against the back of the seat, and he feels him shudder as he carefully positions the broken arm over the man's chest.

As he looks down he sees the man's eyes are slightly open, pain prompting him towards semi-consciousness. Matt's hazy, pain-filled brain tries to connect dots, struggles with a sense of familiarity that pops up as he looks at the bloody features. He shakes his head to try and stay clear, to help the man.

Using his right hand he grabs him by his belt while bunching the back of his shirt in his left hand, and just as he starts pulling him out he sees the headlights of a car appearing. It stops for a moment behind his own car, he hears a voice and then the lights briefly disappear as the car swings around both vehicles and comes to a screeching halt.

He hears car doors slamming shut, turns and squints at the headlights, notices the blue lights which are now flashing. "Hey, c'me here, I need help getting this guy out!" he hoarsely yells at whomever is now approaching. He hears running footsteps, and then a voice emitting a shocked "Crap! It's the boss!" and another voice right behind him "Oh Christ, no. _Steve_!"

At the terms 'boss' and 'Steve' his mind tries to make a connection again, but he's both too dazed and focused on the job at hand. He feels somebody bumping into his right side, groans from the pain shooting through his chest. The person yells "Chin, get the paramedics out here!" and then starts screaming at him. "Don't move him, Matt!"

Surprised by the mention of his name, Matt quickly glances at the stocky man who's wormed his way half into the door opening and is trying to make him release the injured driver. There's something about him.

"You pig-headed son of a bitch, don't move him; let go of him!"

The guy sounds almost hysterical, and his continuing loud voice is causing white hot pain to shoot through his head, making him see stars. Matt wishes he would shut up, but decides to try and ignore the yelling. He readjusts his grip on the man's belt to get him out.

That's when the man next to him grabs his arm.

* * *

If things weren't so horrible, if there wasn't so much _blood_ , Danny would be laughing his ass off. So, OK, yeah, he may be a little hysterical. Blame it on today's events.

Just seeing Doris pop out of the container like a secretive Jack-In-The-Box, and then later at HQ, experiencing the sudden realization that Doris did not have one, but _two_ crazy gun-toting, weapons-wielding sons would have been enough to blow anybody's brain fuses.

And guess what; things just got a _whole_ lot crazier!

From what Detective Daniel Williams can see, it looks as if Matt has nearly succeeded in killing Steve by plowing into his car, and he's about to finish the job by trying to drag the seriously injured man out. God knows what further damage he'll do, and despite feeling hysterical, Danny is having none of it.

He yells at Matt, who's got a death grip on Steve, still pulling. Danny doesn't really care whether it´s the result of the accident, or just something genetic which makes Matt ignore the advice he tries to impart on him. He grabs Matt´s arm and sticks a warning finger in his face. "Quit being such an _asshole_ , Matt; if you don't let go of him right this mi ..." Before he can finish, Matt's right hand strikes out, quicker than a snake, and the hand attached to Danny's pointing finger feels like it has been gripped in a bone-crunching vice. He actually feels the joints of his ring and middle finger go with an almost audible *pop*. "Jesus _fucking_ Christ. Owww!"

The dazed brown eyes above the bloody nose stare into his own, and the words that come growling out of his mouth are disturbingly familiar: "First and final warning; don't _ever_ point a finger at my face again!"

His hand is let go and Danny shoves it into his left armpit. "What the fuck _was_ that?! Why ..."

Matt cuts him off. "Quit being a baby, help me get him out. He's not getting any air."

Danny shuts up immediately, the realization that Steve´s in serious danger of choking prompting him into action. Ignoring his throbbing fingers, he grabs Steve by the belt as Matt puts his arms underneath Steve's armpits, and together they manage to get him out of the car.

Steve utters another weak groan as they lie him down and his arm shifts.

Right then Chin comes back. When he sees the trio, now fully illuminated by the headlights of the Camaro, he is stunned when he sees the other man is Matt. _Oh boy, ain´t this a small world_ he thinks. He frowns, then looks at his boss; Steve's left arm is obviously broken, he has an oddly shaped dark and bleeding purple-red depression on the left side of his face, his hair is matted with blood and, as Chin watches, Steve's lips are starting to turn a light shade of blue. "Oh crap, this doesn't look good. Medics are on their way, Danny."

Danny nods that he has heard.

"Matt, you OK?" asks Chin.

Matt doesn't respond, is busy tilting Steve's head back to open his airway. Holding Steve's chin up with one hand, he uses the other hand to pull up his shirt, then utters an expletive at the purple-black discolorations.

Danny's eyebrows almost disappear into his hair as Matt mutters something while he manipulates Steve's chest. "What did you say? Seriously, did you just say you wanted cereal or something?!"

Matt snorts. "I said 'feels like Rice Krispies'. It means there's air leaking into his chest. Get me a first aid or emergency kit, anything; _NOW_ ! Unless you want him to die on us."

Danny, feeling a wave of panic course through him, jumps up and runs towards the back of the Mercury. Fortunately, the crash hasn't jammed the trunk, and he yanks out the emergency trauma kit he knows Steve always has with him. It's bound to be packed with everything familiar, and a whole lot more _un_ familiar first aid items.

He hopes Matt knows what he's doing. If not, Danny tells himself, if Matt injures him even further or, God forbid, kills Steve, he´ll happily arrest him and then shoot him. Fuck it, never mind the arrest; he'll just shoot him. Even if that will result in a homicidal Doris coming after him.

Matt rummages through the contents of the pack, then utters a surprised "Ah" as he finds a neatly packaged needle decompression kit. Next he takes out some antiseptic swabs and latex gloves, and finally he grabs two large safety pins.

Next he does something so incomprehensible, so totally _disgusting_ that Danny is certain he will have nightmares for months to come; he grabs one of the large safety pins and, without a moment's hesitation, pulls out Steve's tongue, deftly sticks the pin down through the tongue's tip and then pins it to his lower lip. He repeats the action with the second pin.

Danny vaguely hears Chin's shocked intake of breath as he stares, horrified, from the safety pins to the man sitting next to Steve. "You _sick_ fuck! Oh man, you need help!"

Matt glances at his shocked face, frowns, then states matter-of-factly: "Keeps his airway open so he can breathe."

He puts on the gloves, swabs a portion of Steve's upper left chest, then quickly takes the decompression needle out of the case. Using his left hand he manipulates the skin just below Steve's clavicle, then puts the tip of the needle in just above the third rib, pushing the needle further down along the top of the rib. Satisfied, hearing air escape, he draws back the needle, leaving the catheter in place.

Danny feels faint at the sight of the needle sticking out of Steve's chest, at his _tongue_ pinned to his lower lip.

Matt takes out a sterile bandage, loosely drapes that over the open fracture in Steve's bent arm, and places another bandage over the left side of his face. He looks down at Steve. "That should do it" he says. He slowly stands up, grunts and wavers, grabbing his chest.

Danny, still engrossed by what Matt has done to Steve, doesn't notice, but Chin quickly moves closer to grab the man, whose face is becoming paler by the second.

"Whoa there, big guy, take it easy, OK? Looks like you're not walking away from this unharmed either."

Danny now gets up as well, and together they help Matt, now deadly white and sweating profusely, ease down against the side of the Mercury.

Chin squats down beside him as Danny quickly goes back to Steve, kneels down next to him, and grabs his right hand. "Hey babe, listen, I know this doesn't look good; you're busted up, you have a needle sticking out of your chest, and that idiot Matt has just turned you into a Punk rocker!"

He swallows the thick lump in his throat as he takes in the multiple injuries, then cocks his head as he hears sirens approaching. "They're coming, Steve, listen; the ambulance is coming. Now you just hold on, you hear? Hold on, babe, so they can take you to the hospital and fix you up." He squeezes the hand and swallows again as it remains limp in his own.

Chin's urgent "Danny!" makes him turn around, and he watches as Matt, having just vomited, is supported by Chin as he slowly slides sideways against the Mercury.

_This is wrong_ , thinks Danny, as he takes in the wrecked cars, the blood and the two men, now both unresponsive on the ground. _So very fucking wrong!_


	19. Ohana to the Nth degree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An already chaotic situation has really gone FUBAR. At least, that's what Danny Williams thinks.  
> It can't get any worse, right?

* * *

  

"Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops."

\- Cary Grant -

 

* * *

 

Joe is picking up some essential groceries, having made sure he's left Doris comfortably behind, when she calls him on his cell phone. She's just hung up on Danny, who's called her on the way to hospital to tell her about the accident. "Joe, it's ... Steve's been in an accident. He's not good, I mean ... it's bad. They're taking him to Queen's right now." Doris suddenly giggles, realizing she's on the verge of becoming hysterical, yet unable to stop herself.

Taken by surprise, Joe can tell she's about to lose it, and it worries him. If anybody has iron control, it's Doris. However, the events of the day, now being topped by this horrible news like a rotten cherry on top of a stale pie, well ... even Doris McGarrett can handle only so many things. And he doesn't think the sedatives they've given her earlier to set her wrist have completely left her system yet. "Doris ..." He hears her take a deep breath, followed by another short giggle. "Doris, honey ..."

The endearment feels like a soothing hand, calming her, and she tries to clear the confusing thoughts and images jumbling through her head. When Danny mentioned Matt had been involved in the accident as well, she had felt her heart lurch. As Joe asks what happened, she takes a deep breath, then cuts him off. "Joe, listen. It's not just Steve; it's Matt as well."

It takes Joe several seconds to digest. "Matt?! What do you mean; did he see it happen, was he called on scene; what?"

Doris emits a snort, then manages to compose herself again. Her next words cause Joe's knees to go weak. "No Joe, he didn't see it happen; it happened to him. They crashed into each other."

Joe's mind goes blank for a second. _Both of them, both Doris' sons. Now what are the odds of that happening!_ He quickly manages to collect himself. "Stay put, Doris; I'll be right back!"

* * *

The ambulance pulls up to the hospital entrance. Steve's the first to be taken out and rushed to the ER, his injuries the most severe. Danny is right next to the stretcher, running along while he stares at Steve's face; bloodied, white and completely slack. He can't even tell if his friend is still breathing, still alive.

A combined effort of ER-technicians and ambulance personnel lifts Steve off the stretcher and onto one of the trauma beds. After a quick examination, one of the doctors points at both the safety pins and the needle sticking out the side of Steve's chest.

"Who did this?!" he asks sharply, then looks at Danny when the paramedics shake their heads.

"This nut case detective, Matt Sterling ... he was in the accident as well. He just went ahead and stuck that needle in, and he, he did this _thing_ to Steve's, to my partner's tongue!" Danny takes a deep breath, continues: "I'm arresting him as soon as he's ..."

An abrupt gesture cuts him off. "Don't be an idiot! He may well have saved your partner's life. Now get out!"

Danny feels his arm being taken by a nurse who gently but insistently steers him towards the hallway. "No, I need to be there! Steve, he's ... I need to know how he's doing. What if he, I mean, if he dies and ..." He nervously slicks back his hair, looks at the nurse, trying to make her understand that he really, _really_ needs to be with Steve.

She shakes her head, resolutely closing the doors behind her. "No, you're staying here. They need to assess the extent of his injuries and work on him, they can't use you there. Just go grab a cup of coffee, I'm sure they'll inform you as soon as they know more." With that she's gone.

Chin is already there, watching as Danny slides down against the wall, burying his head in his hands. "Hey brah" says Chin and hunkers down beside him. "Try to hold it together. Steve's a fighter, right?"

Danny looks at him, nods. "I'm just ... I'm scared, Chin. What if he loses this battle?" He leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes, but immediately there's images of a pale and bleeding Steve, a Steve whose lips are turning blue, choking. He quickly opens them again, looks at Chin. "The doctor said Matt saved Steve's life, knew what he was doing."

Chin slowly nods his head. "Matt's knowledge of combat medicine, I guess." Danny raises an eyebrow, and Chin continues. "Joe filled me in on some parts. From what I gathered, Matt was part of a pilot program, a study to see whether the Marines could become part of the joint Special Operations Command. This pilot, called Detachment One ... they were a bunch of mean, skilled mother-fuckers. Right up there and equal to SEALs, if not better."

Danny frowns. It explains why he senses the same undercurrent in Matt as he does in Steve; that ready-for-action trigger just beneath the surface, the ability to adapt to almost any and all situations, the skill to improvise. The way both men had acted when Brody held Doris hostage, acting in unison; it makes even more sense now. He sighs. "So not just a cop, not just a detective."

Chin nods. "Just like Steve, I guess."

' _Oh, you have no idea,'_ thinks Danny.

"Wonder how Matt is doing."

Danny looks at his team mate.

Chin frowns. "Him passing out, puking ... that's at least a concussion I think. Fortunately his car had air-bags, but we'll have to wait, see what the doctors say."

Danny nods. "You called Lou and Kono, right?"

"Yeah, told them to stay put, said we'd inform them. Not sure if Kono will, though." Chin gives Danny a little smile.

Danny sighs, then looks at his right hand as a sharp pain reminds him that Matt did something to his fingers; he holds it up, and hears Chin whistle. "Wow, brah!"

Danny frowns. "Compliments of a certain short tempered LA detective. I might as well have it looked at while we're waiting."

* * *

Joe and Doris walk into the hospital, going straight towards the ER. They find Danny and Chin in the waiting area, and Doris quickly makes a bee line for them.

Danny looks up, still a little queasy from the numbing shot they've given him in order to correct his dislocated finger joints. ' _Ah, the source of all evil,'_ he thinks, as he watches Doris come towards them, then mentally slaps himself for the thought. ' _Not nice, Danny; bad boy.'_

Doris looks completely out of it, deep lines of worry etched around her mouth which is a thin, tight line. Her eyes look red, swollen, as if she has been crying. Which she has, as no amount of training can prepare a person for the emotional roller coaster she has been on these last few days. She accepts Danny's outstretched left hand and sits down next to him.

"How are ..." She quickly corrects herself, hoping Danny and Chin have missed the slip-up. "How is Steve?"

Danny stares at her with a bemused look in his eyes, then shakes his head. "Don't know, they haven't updated us on his condition yet." He looks at Joe, standing next to Chin, looking serious, and Danny can only imagine how worried he must be about his best friends' son. Correction: his best friend's widow's, his lover's _sons_. How's _that_ for a fucked-up complicated world!

Joe nods at him, as if confirming his thoughts. Danny opens his mouth to ask a question when the doctor who worked on Steve walks into the waiting room.

"Family of Commander McGarrett?"

Doris nods. "Yes."

The doctor turns towards her. "You're Commander McGarrett's mother I presume?"

She nods again.

"Right. Well, what I can tell you is that your son is lucky to be alive so far."

So far? Danny jumps up. "So far? Why, is he, will he ..."

The doctor cuts him off again with that same abrupt gesture, then turns back towards Doris, now white as a sheet.

Joe places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "He's tough, Doris. Come on now, let's hear what the man has to say" and he shoots a warning glance at Danny.

Feeling rebuked, Danny looks down and tries to jam his hands in his pockets; the right one catches on the splint and he lets out a soft groan.

"What I mean" continues the doctor "is that he would have probably died at the scene if it hadn't been for, ehm ..."

"Detective Sterling" Chin offers helpfully.

"Right. If it hadn't been for Detective Sterling's ability to recognize and deal with an emergency like a pneumothorax."

They look up as Kono suddenly rushes into the room, eyes wide open with fear and shock. Chin throws a glance at Danny, as if to say ' _See? Told you so' ,_ then quickly walks up to her. "Hey cuz. Be quiet for now, we're being updated on Steve's condition."

She nods, then leans against him.

"Anyway" continues the doctor, "besides that, the Commander has several fractured ribs, one of which caused the pneumothorax; a fracture of the upper arm; a dislocated elbow and wrist; a depressed fracture of the cheekbone; a small skull fracture and a scalp laceration. He's being prepped for surgery as we speak."

Doris nods her head, signals that she understands Steve's situation. "How long will it take?" she asks.

"Well" says the doctor, "barring complications he should be back on the floor in several hours. We'll let you know as soon as they have him settled in." He looks at his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to scrub in." And he walks out.

Doris looks at Joe. "Do you, do you think he'll be OK?" She sounds imploring, like she's begging him to stop a world which has spun madly out of control.

It cuts Joe to the core, knowing what she has endured for so many years, what she has given up for her children in order to protect them, to keep them safe. "Steve's a tough cookie, Doris. He's been through worse." He smiles at her, giving her a quick hug.

Doris swallows back her tears, nods. "I guess we'll just have to wait then." She seems to become lost in thought, her eyes staring at a point on the wall.

Kono walks over, then takes the seat previously occupied by Danny, placing a hand on Doris' arm. "We're all here, Doris, all of us rooting for him."

Doris shoots her a grateful look, pats the hand on her arm. "I know, Kono." Then she seems to disconnect again, staring into space.

* * *

An hour later another doctor walks in. "Family of Matthew Sterling?"

Danny immediately watches Doris, curious how she'll respond. He sees the internal struggle flash over her features, watches how she quells the urge to instinctively respond. It's barely noticeable, but he sees it, because he _knows_! In a way he admires her self-control, knows what it feels like, being a parent and having to worry over children.

Chin frowns at Danny's failure to respond. As Second-In-Command, Danny is the one who now needs to step up, but instead Chin watches him focus on Doris, scrutinizing her as if he's enthralled by the emotions rapidly flashing over her face. He moves towards the doctor.

"Matt is temporarily assigned to Five-0, doctor. We're his family here. How is he?"

The doctor looks at Chin, then nods. "OK. Well, it looks like he was lucky. He has a concussion, several broken ribs and some minor abrasions due to the deployment of the air-bag. Barring any complications he should be released within a few days." The doctor continues. "However, for now we're keeping Detective Sterling at the ICU, not only to monitor him because of his head injury but because we had to sedate him."

Danny suddenly focuses his attention on the doctor. "Sedate him? Why?"

Frowning, the man shakes his head. "Well, we're still trying to figure out whether it's the head injury, but despite the fact that he hasn't fully woken yet, he was pretty combative."

Danny groans.

Suddenly Joe speaks up. "If you've sedated him, then you have to be prepared that there's a chance he will be even more combative when he wakes up."

The doctor stares at him. "How so?"

Joe quickly explains what happened over a month ago, and the doctor frowns, then nods. "I see. Well, I'll order to have him put in restraints, just in case. We're too busy right now to deal with a situation like that."

" _No!"_

They all turn towards Doris, who seems mortified at her outburst. She rapidly blinks her eyes. "I mean, that shouldn't be necessary, right?" Doris looks at Joe again. "Joe, you were there last time he woke up. Maybe if ... if Matt wakes up and sees a familiar face, hears a familiar voice, maybe he won't ... you know."

Joe nods, squeezing her shoulder. "Sure Doris, I'll go sit with him. Let me know if there's more news on Steve, OK?"

Doris looks at him gratefully and nods, then turns when she feels Danny staring at her. She throws him a hard look, her dark eyes boring into his with an almost palpable intensity.

Danny knows that look, has seen it on Steve's face numerous times.

Then Doris' face changes, and the hard look in her eyes changes into something resembling defeat.

Danny realizes she knows she's been caught out. He almost feels sorry for her.

* * *

Joe looks down at Matt. A small white bandage covers his nose, and there's an abrasion on his right cheekbone. There's an IV line hooked up to his left hand, he's attached to an ECG monitor and he has a nasal cannula providing him with oxygen. Pulling up a chair, he sits next to the bed. Resting his head on his fists, he just sits there, staring at him.

The sound of the ECG monitor suddenly changes, the beeping speeding up. Behind the closed eyelids, Matt's eyes are moving rapidly, and Joe knows he's caught up in memories of either the car crash or something much more sinister.

Taking care not to touch him, Joe gets up and puts his mouth close to Matt's head, his lips almost touching his ear. Speaking in a low, calm and steady voice, he tries to get through to him. "Easy, son. Whatever it is you're seeing, it's over. It's the past. You're in hospital now."

He pulls back a little, sees a small frown on Matt's face, then moves back towards his ear. "That's right, son. Whatever you're seeing, whatever you're hearing, it ain't real. Just listen to my voice." Suddenly he feels a hand grabbing his arm, hard, and he tenses up, drawing on his own combat skills in case Matt comes out fighting.

Looking down at the hand on his arm, the fingers digging in, Joe next looks up at Matt's face, watches as his eyes slowly open. Matt's gaze is unfocused, staring, then he slowly turns his head. "Joe?"

Nodding, Joe feels a rush of relief. "Yeah Matt, it's me. Welcome back, son."

* * *

Danny is nervously pacing the waiting area, unable to stay put for long. Doris has just left to 'refresh herself' as she put it and went towards the ladies rooms. It's taking too long, the fact that they still haven't heard any updates on Steve's condition slowly tearing Danny's sanity apart. He looks up as he sees Joe walking towards him.

"Any news on Steve?" Joe asks.

Danny shakes his head, miserable. "Other than the nurse asking some specific details about the accident, no."

Danny still can't really wrap his mind around the whole situation. He and Chin had come upon an accident at the intersection near Steve's house, and known it must've just happened as there were no emergency services at the scene. They'd rushed to offer assistance and found the driver's door of the first car open but nobody inside.

And then, when they'd quickly steered around the second car ... Danny squeezes his eyes shut. Recognizing the Mercury, then seeing Matt, partially crouched inside the passenger's side, watching him trying to pull out a body, trying to pull out _Steve_... that realization had impacted like a sledge hammer. Danny had felt an all-encompassing wave of panic and horror engulf him. He opens his eyes, scrapes his throat, scrapes again as the lump doesn't go away that easily, then looks at Joe again. "So, ehm, what about Matt? He wake up already?"

There's a somewhat distracted, almost worried look on Joe's face that sets off little alarm bells, just like when Doris had smiled, or when she had been on the verge of asking how _they_ were doing _;_ not just interested in Steve's well-being, but in that of Matt as well. Now why is that; why is _Joe_ so interested, as he obviously is?

An almost angry frown appears on Joe's face as he watches Danny stare at him, his steel-blue eyes locking with Danny's with laser-focused intensity. "What's on your mind, Danny? Spit it out, son!"

Suddenly Danny's mind flashes back to Matt and Steve grunting on the floor of Chin's office, then Joe barging in. The look Matt had thrown Joe after he had slapped him, not the look of pure indignation that had been on Steve's face but a hard, focused glare ... he'd seen it on Joe's face seconds later, sees it there now. Right then and there Detective Daniel Williams vows to search out an expert; have him repair his detecting skills, fix his detector button, replace it maybe. It's broken, malfunctioning. _Not_ detecting!

_Super Woman McGarrett and G.I. Joe have been sitting up a tree, k.i.s.s.i.n.g long before today!_

Danny groans, flaps a hand in Joe's direction, mumbles "nothing" and nearly stumbles back into the waiting room. He can feel Joe's eyes burn a hole in his back, following his every move. When he flops down on a chair he keeps his head bent down, not daring to look up lest he encounters Joe's stare and gives away the fact that he _knows,_ knows _everything!_ He utters a short, barking laugh, causing Chin and Kono to look at him.

"Everything OK, brah?"

Danny shoots Chin a sideways glance, sees the worried look on his team mate's face. Is everything OK? No, Daniel Williams thinks things are far from OK, thinks everything is seriously messed up, twisted, out of whack.

What's worse, he can't disclose this dirty little secret which Doris, which _Joe_ obviously has not cared to divulge. Not to him, not to Steve, not to Matt. Because Danny is certain neither of the men are aware of the facts he has been slowly puzzling together. He purses his lips, nods. "Yeah, fine. Don't worry, it's all good. Pain meds are wearing off I think."

' _Please, Lord'_   Danny thinks. ' _Please just kill me now.'_

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, fifteen _very_ uncomfortable minutes in which Doris comes back to the waiting room, in which Danny watches from underneath his eyebrows as Joe takes her by the arm and leads her out of the waiting room, watches them talk in muted voices, then stare at him in unison, Steve's doctor comes back again, a distracted and worried frown on his face.

Doris takes a few tentative steps towards him, then falters. "Steve, is he ... will he be OK?"

Looking at her, the doctor manages to put a small smile on his face, nods. "So far so good."

Doris McGarrett, she of the ramrod spine and steel nerves, almost collapses as her knees turn weak with relief. Joe and the doctor carefully guide her towards one of the chairs in the waiting room, then gently help her to sit down as Kono rushes off to get a glass of water.

"He came through surgery better than expected. Now we'll just have to wait for him to wake up, monitor him to keep any complications at bay or catch them at the earliest possible moment."

Doris nods, gratefully accepting the water and taking a sip before she dares speak. "Thank you, for everything. When can we see him?"

Putting a hand on her shoulder, the doctor gives Doris a gentle look. "The minute he's settled in, I'll send someone to come and get you."

She nods, thanks him again, and watches the doctor walk out of the waiting room. Then Doris turns towards Joe, the little watery smile almost becoming radiant. "They're both OK, Joe. They're both going to make it!"

As Doris buries her head into Joe's shoulder, Joe's arm wrapping itself protectively around her, his head buried in her hair as he kisses her, Danny watches Chin and Kono throw each other a surprised, bewildered look. There are a million unspoken questions in that exchanged look, a frown appearing on both their faces. Then they turn to stare at Doris.

' _And this_ ,' thinks Danny, _'this is where confusion ends and chaos starts. I think I need some popcorn and a soda.'_

Despite the situation, he grins.


	20. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny is not the only one who figured things out. And turns out to have a bit of a mean streak as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait for a new update, but RL has gotten a firm grip on me. Ergo, the muse had to spend some time in isolation. Furthermore, this update is unbeta'ed, as I will be gone the rest of the weekend. So any errors, mistakes, etc. are mine and I cannot blame anybody else.

* * *

"If you reveal your secrets to the wind,  
you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees."

\- Khalil Gibran -

* * *

Danny is the one who ends up calling Jim Sterling, informing him his brother - and Danny finds he actually has trouble using the term - has been in an accident. "Oh hell, and me not being able to get out there again" Jim groans. "Twice in less than a month is just not possible. Why does he have to be such a trouble magnet?"

It takes Danny a huge amount of effort to control this ... this _thing_ which lies just behind his lips, which just _burns_ to jump out and shock the hell out of people, from goading him into giving Jim Sterling a lecture in genetics, explaining how exactly it's virtually impossible for Matt _not_ to attract trouble.

But he decides to leave that particular revelation to either Doris or Joe, hoping he can be there and enjoy the show when it all comes down. It's not his place to rip the carpet from underneath Jim's feet, to tell him that his parents' death has left him truly alone in this world.

Instead, he sighs and commiserates with the man. "I know how you feel. Steve's like that as well." Jim answers with a snort. "Yeah, I gathered as much."

Jim is the one who ends the call, duty calling and all that jazz, and wishes them all the best, expressing his hope that there will be good news on Steve's condition soon. "Just punch Matt in the shoulder for me, OK?" Danny's answer is noncommittal; being manhandled by Matt once is enough to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.

It takes longer than expected for Steve to be settled in his room, and it's only after Danny promises for the fifth time that he'll call if there are any new developments in Steve's condition that Chin and Kono give in and leave; they have another work day at the office in the morning.

There's the matter of the break-in at HQ; Duke immediately contacted Chin when he was notified Steve had failed to show up, then received news about the accident. And of course Brody's name can be scratched from the To-Do list; they'll forward the file to LA, so the LAPD can use the new information to tie up loose ends there.

Kono persuades Danny to accompany them to the car, telling him he needs to stretch his legs while he still has the chance; it's a forgone conclusion he'll stick to Steve's side. Once they're outside, Chin turns towards the Second-in-Command, stopping him in his tracks.

"Care to tell me what's going on with Joe and Doris, and their involvement with Matt? Kono and I have noticed a few things." Kono is quietly standing at her cousin's side, but her eyes are filled with questions.

Danny looks down at his shoes, absentmindedly noticing that there are little flecks of red staining his sneakers; blood. Matt's? Or Steve's? He shudders, momentarily taken back to the scene of the accident.

"Look, brah. There's no way in hell I'm confronting either Joe or Doris with this, and you seem to know what's going on." Chin is giving him a hard stare when he glances up, and Danny shrugs. "It's not so much _knowing_ as it is the feeling that some things just don't add up." Chin nods. "Like the kind where one and one suddenly makes three?" Uttering a short laugh, Danny looks his friend in the eye. "Exactly, and nicely put, by the way."

"I'm not surprised; truth be told, I already figured out there must be some sort of family relationship between Doris and Matt." Danny looks shocked. "Oh come on, Danny!" Chin's perfect Zen control shows an impatient crack. "There's been an identical, if possible even more dangerous, short tempered and reckless Steve McGarrett clone hanging around us these past few weeks; how could I _not_ think that?"

Mouth open, Danny can do nothing but gape for a moment. "And so ... why didn't you inform any of us about this; why not tell Steve?!" Chin chuckles. "You mean, like _you_ did?" He shakes his head, sighs. "That way lies danger, Danny; not looking to step on any land mines voluntarily. Remember what those two did to my office?"

Danny can only nod in agreement; the situation is nothing if not volatile. He can only imagine how both Steve and Matt will react when they find out. "We do have the latest models tech vests, right?" Chin shoots him a surprised look at the seemingly haphazard remark but Kono grins, immediately getting what he means. "Brah, if that suspicion pans out, I don't think we even should be in the same _building_ when those two find out."

Danny agrees.

* * *

While Danny is hashing out theories with Chin and Kono, a nurse has come to take Doris and Joe to Steve. The sight of her son, hooked up to numerous machines, pale and quiet in his bed, is almost too much for Doris. Her normal calm and cool demeanor already shattered when told about the accident, the confrontation with her injured son destroys what little self-control she has left.

"Oh Jesus, Joe. He looks ... he looks so _broken_." Joe watches her with something akin to pity as her hand hovers over Steve's bruised face, tears running down her face. Doris wants to touch him, but she's afraid, conditioned by him warding her off continuously. Her index finger gently traces a path along his eyebrow before she steps away from the bed and sinks down on one of the chairs.

Joe quickly pulls up another chair and sits down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He alone knows how much Doris has sacrificed for _all_ of her children, and it pains him that two of them basically hate her, and the third doesn't even know his true connection to her.

"What's wrong, honey?" Joe tightens his arm around her, instinctively sensing that it's not just the hospital situation that bothers her now. She runs her hand through her hair, then leans against him. "I don't know how to handle things anymore, Joe. It's all ... just slipping away from me."

He pulls back, giving her a long look. "You mean Danny? " She nods, sighs again. "He just _knows_. I can tell by the way he avoids trying to look at us. And the way he sneaks glances when he thinks we're not looking. I just hope he doesn't tell anybody or the boys before we can."

Joe nods. Figuring out a way to disclose their secret had been the prime subject of their discussions, right up until the moment Steve and Matt had the accident. How will they explain to Matt that everything he has always believed, everything he has always held dear, is an illusion? And how will they explain it to Steve?

When Doris had told him Matt was his, he felt as if the world had come to a sudden stop, then started turning again at twice the normal speed. He had a _son_! His marriages had produced nothing but daughters; girls - now women - he held very dear, and loved, and would protect with his very life.

But nothing could animate a man's spirit, his innate pride like a son, a male heir. It was something very primal, something which he had come to partially understand when John had begged him to look out for Steve after sending him to the mainland. Every time Steve was successful at something, accomplished another new feat, he had felt a warm surge through his soul.

Yet despite the fact that he felt fiercely protective of Steve, he had never forgotten the fact that he was _John's_ son, not his. And although he never resented John for being the one Doris had chosen, in fact even becoming best friends with the man, he had always felt a little tug at his soul whenever he saw John and Doris together with their children.

"Maybe we should just talk to him? Ask him to hold back until we get a chance to explain everything." Doris looks up, a pensive look on her face. "That would confirm everything though." Shrugging, Joe squeezes her shoulder. "Danny's no mean detective, and if he sussed it out, then it won't be long before he shares his findings with his team mates. It's not like we can keep this a secret forever, you know."

He sees a look appear in her eyes and laughs. "Really, Doris? You weren't honestly trying to do that; keep it a secret?" It's her turn to shrug. "I don't know. Telling them, letting people know ... it will complicate matters, will change things." Joe instinctively knows what she is _not_ saying, that her greatest fear is that the alienation between herself and her children will only become worse.

"If we come clean, if we tell the boys this secret, I think we should tell them _all_ of our secrets." Joe looks her dead in the eye, and he sees her face blanch. "You mean ..." Joe nods. "Yes." He pulls her close as she starts shaking her head, something resembling panic crossing her features. "Doris, it wasn't _your_ fault; it wasn't _your_ plan. It was mine, and John's."

Doris burrows her face into Joe's shirt. On the one hand she knows it might ease the relationship between her and her youngest two children once they know the idea for her 'death' wasn't hers. However, telling Steve that it was his father's plan ... and Joe's ... "He will hate you, Joe." He smiles in her hair. "I can handle it, honey. I've had to face worse dangers; remember, I have several ex-wives."

Doris finally smiles.

* * *

When Chin and Kono finally drive off, Danny slowly makes his way back into the hospital. They have agreed on keeping their suspicions to themselves, giving Doris and Joe the time and opportunity to 'come out', as it were. For now there is a far more urgent matter demanding attention anyway; Steve.

Images of the accident keep flashing through Danny's mind, like a masochist returning to a source of pain; Matt, himself dazed and injured by the impact, doggedly trying to pull Steve out of the Marquis; and then Steve, face all bruised, gasping for breath, his lips turning blue ...

Danny firmly closes his eyes, trying to block out the disturbing scenes, then takes a deep breath and heads back inside. When he passes Matt's room, he hesitates, then turns back and opens the door. Softly walking towards the bed, he takes in the relaxed features of the sleeping man.

' _So much like Steve'_   he thinks.

To Danny, the relationship between the two men is no longer a suspicion but an absolute given. The shape of Matt's cheekbones, jawline, even the long, aquiline nose ... the basic structure is identical to Steve's. Hell, even the way the scruff is starting to appear looks similar.

For an instance, Danny thinks back to the moment the two men were grappling with each other in Chin's office, silent besides the uttered grunts, focused on subduing their opponent. The scene is immediately followed by that of Steve and Matt silently moving towards Doris, their weapons trained on an already dead Brody.

' _Deadly machines, the both of them. Another similarity.'_

When Danny looks up again, he stares straight into Matt's dark eyes, exact copies of Doris. The heart monitor Matt's still attached to has not given a single warning of him waking up. _'Sneaky and freaky self control, add that to the list as well'_ thinks Danny, and he smiles.

"Hey. How are you doing?" He watches as Matt blinks, then scrapes his throat, obviously still woozy from both the accident and the sedatives. "I'll live." Danny snorts. "Yeah, you're not going to let something as silly as a major automobile accident put a dent in you, huh? Onwards and forwards, moving on like a good soldier."

_'Just like Steve.'_

Danny swallows at the thought. Just like Steve under _normal_ circumstances. Not this time, though; this time it seems there's no moving on for Steve just yet. Danny quickly closes his eyes, trying to dispel the enormous feeling of unease coursing through him. _'He'll be all right.'_

He hears Matt scrape his throat again, trying to draw his attention, and opens his eyes.

"About that ... Joe told me what happened." Matt swallows, then continues while pointing at Danny's hand. "I'm sorry about busting your fingers. I guess I was kinda out of it due to the concussion; didn't recognize you."

Danny huffs out a breath, a sarcastic smile appearing on his face. "You know, I would buy that as a given if it weren't for the fact that you were _totally_ cognizant when you threw me against that couch several weeks ago."

Matt stares at him for a second. "Cognizant? You read dictionaries in your spare time, Danny?"

Danny stares at the man in the bed, then shakes his head. "Somebody should've broken the mold."

Matt's next remark leaves Danny breathless. "What is it about your obsession with me and Steve? I noticed you staring at us yesterday. And at Doris. What's up with that?"

Danny can only stare at Matt's frowning face. Of _course_ Matt noticed things being off. After all, he was a detective as well, and a damn good one from what he heard. "That, ehm ... I ..." Matt's frown is replaced by a humorous look. "Stuttering? That's a new one, Detective Williams; you being so eloquent and all that."

Glaring, Danny snorts. However, he is still convinced it's not up to him to disclose Doris' and Joe's secret. On the other hand, he really abhors lying. Sighing, he gives Matt a serious look. "It's not up to me to tell you." He holds up a hand when Matt is about to protest. "Honestly, Matt. Whatever is going on, whatever there is to tell, you need to ask Doris."

Danny walks towards the door. "I'm going to go see if there's any news on Steve." He throws Matt an apologetic look. "Sorry I can't help you any further. You might as well get some more sleep. Recuperate, you know, like us _normal_ people do after an accident." With that, Danny grins at a scowling Matt and leaves.

' _Doris! Why do all mysterious matters and questions lead back to that woman?'_

Grunting, Matt gingerly turns onto his side and decides that trying to sleep is, indeed, the best option.

* * *

He is slowly drifting towards consciousness. Light and sound try to penetrate the haze within his mind, but the sensation of pain is swifter, more hell bent on making itself known to him; it starts somewhere around his hips, then travels along the entire left side of his body, along his face, up to his head.

He groans.

"Steven?"

The voice sounds like it's coming from inside a tunnel, somewhere at the end; he's struggling to get there, fighting his way out of the blackness.

"Steven?"

The voice sounds closer and is joined by a second one.

"Steve, c'mon on, babe. We're here, you're safe."

He knows the voices, is trying to match faces to them, respond somehow, but it's hard work. He groans again, the pain a hot, searing flare that claws its way into his awareness, claiming his attention, dragging it away from his effort to respond to the voices.

He hears a beeping sound, rapidly increasing; hears the voices calling his name, more urgent this time. Trying again to answer the voices, the pain now becomes a roaring animal that is clawing through his body, tearing it apart, drowning out all other sensations. He tries to fight it, stay on top of it somehow, but to no avail; it triumphantly drags him down into the blackness again.

* * *

Joe places a comforting arm around Doris' shoulder; he hates seeing the almost desperate look in her eyes as she stares at Steve, who has just been given extra sedatives. Danny is looking at the bed, eyes blown wide with shock; he's nervously touching his face, then his hair, then turns towards the doctor.

"All right, what the _hell_ happened just now; did he suffer an attack or something?!"

The doctor doesn't look up while he's checking the IV settings and the monitor. "No, Detective Williams, he did not have an 'attack' as you put it. It's just that we haven't been able to ascertain Commander McGarrett's pain level, as he has been unconscious."

The doctor now turns towards Doris, and continues to explain. "Now that he woke up, even if just a little, we were able to find out if the pain medication was set at the right dosage."

Danny huffs. "Well, I guess the answer was pretty damn obvious! I'd say it wasn't even _near_ the correct dose!" He stares at the doctor with an outraged look in his eyes.

"I understand how this may have looked, but I'm sure you also understand that another of our priorities was to see if Commander McGarrett would even wake up." The doctor, ignoring Danny, speaks directly to Doris and Joe.

"Taking into account the extent of his injuries, and with his record of all the previous injuries he has suffered, we needed to make sure he wasn't in a coma." Doris nods her understanding. "I'll be back to check on him shortly." With that, the doctor walks out.

"I feel like I just got spanked" complains Danny. "Spanked like some little kid!"

"Maybe that's because you were behaving like one?" ventures Joe, a small smile on his face. Danny stares at him while his hand subconsciously tries to tame his unruly hair.

Doris, now standing by the bed and looking down at Steve, sighs. "Look Danny, we know you're just as worried as we are; we know how close you and Steven are. It scared me as well, seeing Steven like that." Danny hears her voice catch. "But this is a damn fine hospital, and they know what they're doing, so he'll be fine." It sounds more like a hopeful wish than a statement.

Danny plucks at the splint on his right hand, feeling slightly ashamed at his outburst. But Doris is right; he's just been dragged through hell, seeing his friend go through so much pain, blacking out because of the agony. It felt like his insides were ripped out, watching it all.

What he doesn't want to admit is that he's angry at Steve as well; angry because this whole situation is Steve's own fault! It doesn't take a genius to figure out the crash happened because Steve, for whatever reason, didn't pay attention while driving.

And finding out this usually-in-control man, this _gung-ho_ warrior who Danny trusts with his life is fallible, makes stupid _mistakes_ ... that's just a tough thing to deal with. Despite his never-ending pleas to his friend to be less of a caveman, Danny has actually come to depend on Steve being able to cope with any situation, being able to find a solution for virtually any problem. Save the day.

But now Danny is left to wonder how Steve will not only deal with his injuries, but with the situation concerning Doris and Joe. How he'll deal with the fact that Matt's his _brother_ ; what it will do to him when he finds out his mother - and Joe as well - has kept another secret from him, a secret which, again, directly impacts his life.

"What's with the frown, Danny?" Joe asks calmly. When Danny looks at the older man, he can feel Doris' eyes burning in his back and he shakes his head, looking away. _Shit!_ He should've known it would come to this, being cornered by both Joe and Doris; an interrogation by two elderly nearly-has-beens who still have the power to seriously mess with people.

Danny scrapes his throat and is about to answer that nothing's wrong, when Doris beats him to it. "You know, don't you?" she says in a low voice. Shit, shit, _shit!_ "No, I don't _know_ anything. I have my suspicions, though." Danny looks Doris straight in the eye, then sighs. There's no point in pretending.

"Look, this little secret or whatever is something between you and Matt and Joe. Well, and Steve of course. Oh, and let's not forget Mary, she's going to want to know as well. Hell, it's between you and a whole bunch of people."

Danny draws in a breath, then quickly continues. "But you know what, Doris? I'm not going to tell on you. Actually, Chin and Kono and I are not going to tell on you, because, yeah, we figured it out. And we decided to leave you the pleasure of telling Matt and Steve."

If possible, Doris has turned even paler, and Joe is throwing him a murderous look. But Danny doesn't care anymore. All he can think about is the pain this will cause Steve, and he is actually really, _really_ angry that his friend has to go through all of that again. So he doesn't pull any punches.

"And when you tell Steve, I'm going to take a seat in the front row. I just can't _wait_ to see what he'll do when he finds out his own mother has screwed him over again." Danny walks to the door, neatly evading the arm Joe stretches out towards him. Opening the door, he turns around to deliver his final, caustic barb.

"You know what, Doris? My guess is that, if Matt and Steve had known about this little 'secret' of yours this morning, chances are they would've just left you to Brody. I mean, a mother like you? Who'd want _that_ !"

And with that, Danny walks out.


	21. The truth will out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE - My apologies to all who have been waiting patiently for an update; the next one won't take as long, I promise!  
> -  
> The truth has a funny way of always catching up with any lie ...

* * *

"Three things cannot be long hidden:

the sun, the moon, and the truth."

\- Buddha -

* * *

"That stubborn _idiot_!" Doris stares at the phone Joe has just put down on the table, then hangs her head as she takes in a deep breath, absentmindedly scratching a spot just below the cast on her wrist. She feels Joe's hands on her shoulders, rubbing and kneading them, trying to ease the tension which threatens to seize up the muscles there. He doesn't speak. "Why won't he let you pick him up from the hospital, Joe?"

The long hours initially spent at the hospital, then the frequent visits the following days, all so they can spend as much time as possible with Steve and simultaneously keep a close watch on Matt's healing process, have taken it out of her; Doris is completely and utterly exhausted.

Exhausted from anxiety, and from the constant tension she feels whenever she's near Danny Williams, not knowing whether he'll stick to his word and not spill the beans to either Steve or Matt. This latest set-back, Matt's polite but stubborn refusal to have Joe take him home now he's being discharged, makes her want to scream in frustration.

Joe continues to rub her shoulders, remaining quiet for a little longer before he answers. "I don't know, Doris." He sighs. "Matt's had it pretty rough these past weeks; Gabriel's death, getting shot, the accident-"

"Yes, Joe. I'm aware of all those things." Doris' cynical words stop Joe's hands, and she leans back into him, immediately sorry. "God, this whole situation is driving me _crazy_! I thought picking up Matt from the hospital would be the right moment to explain things to him. But now ..."

The hands on her shoulders turn her around, force her to face Joe. His blue eyes hold a hint of amusement, and as she takes in his features she can clearly see the family resemblance with her eldest child; _their_ child. It's funny how different people notice different things, and whereas Joe keeps telling her Matt is the spitting image of her father, Doris can see their son in the shape of Joe's forehead, the quirky lift of his eyebrows.

"Honey, let's just face it: this thing is going to run its own course. You can try and steer it in a preferred direction, but keep in mind that you lost control of the situation the moment Danny started getting suspicious." Joe smiles at her scowl, knowing how much she _hates_ not having control. "Just go with the flow, Doris."

That, however, is something she's never been very good at.

* * *

Matt sits on the edge of the hospital bed, running a hand over several days worth of stubble. They had kept him longer than he thought necessary, but the doctor wanted to be absolutely sure he didn't suffer from any after effects after having been sedated. Electronic patient records or not, the combined effect of PTSD and sedatives obviously was still largely undiscovered territory.

_When Matt had finally regained consciousness to find Joe sitting next to him, he'd been relieved. The softly spoken words had served to ease him out of the nightmare he'd been having, rather than coming out fighting. Instead of the inbuilt immediate alertness he usually felt upon waking, he'd been given the luxury of being relaxed, off-guard; slowly coming to his senses._

_Somehow, the older man made him feel protected, made him feel safe. A concept which had become virtually alien to him these past decades; it had always been Matt who ensured people were safe, not the other way around. Matt taking care of everything after his parents died, looking after Jimmy; Matt teaching and guiding his younger partner Gabriel, trying to keep him safe during dangerous cases, monitoring him when he went undercover. Now Joe was looking out for Matt, and that was new territory; he hadn't really experienced anything like it since he had left the Det._

_Joe had talked to him, asked him what he remembered about the accident. It wasn't much. Dazed by the events of the day and driven by his urge to be alone, he had hurried out of HQ ahead of the others, then driven home slower than usual, stopping off at the gas station at Hunakai Street to pick up some easy to prepare dinner._

_After that, things were fuzzy._

_When Joe had carefully started to fill in the blanks, telling him the other driver was in fact Steve, he was shocked to the core. And when Joe informed him about the severity of Steve´s injuries, he was horrified. He immediately had tried jumping out of bed, propelled by the urge to go check on him. Joe's strong hand against his chest, sending shards of pain through his broken ribs, had prevented him from doing so._

_"Stay, Matt. That's an order!" The stern voice had brooked no contradiction. "It's not like you came out of this unscathed. And he's still unconscious." He'd fallen back against the pillow, closed his eyes while running a hand over his face. Joe'd been silent for a moment, then huffed out a laugh. When Matt opened his eyes, shooting the older man a surprised look, he saw him shaking his head._

_"You and Steve. So much alike, it's ridiculous." Joe had sighed, opened his mouth as if to say more, then closed his lips again. After a moment, he'd continued. "The accident wasn't your fault, Matt, so don't go taking the blame for it." When the younger man started to protest, he had cut him off. "Look, technically it was Steve's fault; I'm sure his insurance company won't be pleased with him. But both of you were exhausted after what happened today, so in reality, neither one of you is really to blame."_

_Matt had let it sink in, nodded. His head had been throbbing, pounding a steady beat to the rhythm of his heart. Sighing, he'd felt his eyes flutter shut, heard Joe's voice. "Get some sleep, son. You need it. Things will be clearer in the morning." A large hand had been placed on his head, and for one dizzying, stupefying moment Matt had actually turned his head into the comforting touch just as he was drifting off. Had sought the comfort there like he was a small child._

So why has he just turned down Joe's offer to drive him home ...

The only explanation he can think of is the internal battle which is being waged inside of him; despite the initial and instinctive trust he has felt towards Joe, there's also the knowledge that the man has been scheming together with Doris; is her _partner_.

And if there ever was a person he doesn't trust, it's Doris. The information Steve has given him, coupled with the facts he already knew or had found out, come to the sum total of being extremely wary of the woman. Which means, unfortunately, that he has to be wary of Joe as well.

Sighing, he starts going over his other options to get back to the house on Papai Street. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Anywhere but the hospital.

* * *

"So what's the latest news on our fearless leader's condition? Oh, and Matt's, of course." Lou looks over his shoulder while pouring himself a large mug of coffee. Chin looks up from the collection of files he's about to send over to the LAPD, but it's Kono who answers.

"Steve's doing better, although he still sleeps a lot. Man was out like a light when we went over to the hospital last night."

Nodding, Lou walks over to the conference table. "Yeah, he could barely keep his eyes open when I was there. Guess sleep is the best thing he can do right now, although I wonder how he's able to, with Doris and Joe hanging around him all the time. I guess that's why Danny isn't stuck to Steve's side like he usually is when the guy's in hospital."

Kono glances at Chin, then quickly looks down at the report which the HPD has filed with regard to the HQ break-in. She doesn't know whether either Danny or Chin have mentioned their suspicions about Doris and Matt to Lou, and she's not about to wake a sleeping dog. Lou, however, is pretty astute.

"OK, what's with that look, Kono? And what's this atmosphere of secrecy that's been hanging around here the last few days?" Lou looks from Kono to Chin and back again. "I _know_ there's something going on, even Danny is more nervous than usual. And I also know it doesn't have to do with Steve being in hospital, so please don't try and feed me that as an excuse!"

Chin stares at Lou. One of the things that empowers their team, forms it into a close-knit entity is the fact that they share all their troubles, are able to unload their problems on their team mates' shoulders. This particular situation, however, does not just involve one of their team mates. "It's a delicate situation, Lou, and it involves Steve and Matt."

Lou frowns, then suddenly his eyes grow bigger. "Hang on a second ... are you implying ... I mean, are you saying that Steve ... and Matt ..."

Chin's eyebrows nearly go up to his hairline, and he shakes his head. "No, _no_! That's not what I'm implying. At _all!_ "

Kono sniggers, looking from Chin to Lou and back again. "My money would be on Steve and _Danny_ , actually." Both men turn towards her, Chin staring daggers at his cousin. Kono's grin becomes even wider. "Oh come on, cuz ... the way they're always near each other ... I mean, I for one wouldn't be surprised."

"Oh- _kay_! This is a conversation that can rapidly deteriorate into something, well ... never mind." Lou shakes his head, glances at a still sniggering Kono, then looks at Chin who is trying to maintain his composure. "So, if that's not the issue here, what is?"

Chin sighs. "Well, it also has to do with Doris." He looks up at Lou. "I need you to promise that this will be kept between us, the team. Not _one_ word to anybody else, OK?" Lou gives him a funny look. "I'm serious, Lou. This ... _thing_ will probably cause a big shit storm, and even though I do think it's fair if you're warned beforehand, it is not up to any of us to blow it wide open."

Running a hand over his head, Lou looks down, then back at Chin. "Well, OK. But you better spill the beans now, because I'd really like to know what could be so important." Chin looks at Kono, who nods, then back at Lou.

"We, meaning Danny, Kono and I, think that Matt may be Doris' son." Chin watches as an incredulous look appears on Lou's face, his mouth going slack with surprise. "Yeah, that's basically how we felt when we put the puzzle pieces together."

Lou remains quiet for several minutes, obviously going over things in his mind. When he does speak, he does so slowly, as if to carefully weigh each word before it leaves mouth. "Are you telling me that Matt may be Steve's _brother_?! And that Matt - or Steve for that matter - is unaware of that fact?" Chin and Kono nod almost simultaneously, and Lou looks down, shaking his head.

"Well," Lou says, straightening up, "I knew that woman loved secrets, but this one really tops everything else. If you guys are right, that is." He shakes his head again, still finding it difficult to take things in. "If this _is_ true, then I think you're correct in assuming that there will be a shit storm."

"Oh, you better believe there will be!" a voice says behind them.

* * *

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself alone in the room. The chairs next to the bed are empty, and he breathes a small sigh of relief; the constant presence of Doris and Joe, although comforting, is also a drain on what little energy he has. He also hates the fact that he keeps drifting in and out during their conversations, unable to stay awake for periods lasting longer than ten minutes.

The doctor has explained the extent of his injuries, and he realizes that all in all he's been very lucky; the heavy chassis of the Mercury has shielded him from far worse. His fractured cheekbone, the result of slamming into the side-view mirror at the moment of impact, has been repaired through an incision in his mouth, and his broken elbow - "You're very lucky to have strong muscles, so the fracture is relatively simple" is what the doctor told him - has been put in a fiberglass splint.

His dislocated and fractured ribs have all been taken care of, and all he needs now is time to heal. The severe concussion resulting from the crash helps him do that; it's the injury which causes him to float back and forth between semi-wakefulness and nearly-unconscious sleep. Right now he still prefers the latter, as the combination of injuries - despite the pain relief he allows for now - is beyond uncomfortable. Just as his eyes flutter shut again, the door opens and Danny's face peers around the corner.

"Hey, look at you, you're awake for a change." Danny smiles, hiding the discomfort he still feels every time he sees Steve's badly bruised face. "And alone as well. Your two guard dogs off to harass somebody else, are they?"

A little frown appears on Steve's face. "Guess so ..." Talking still isn't a favorite of his, the incision in his mouth having caused some swelling. He also has a sore tongue and lips, something which nobody has explained to him yet. He thinks he may have bitten them during the accident, but he can't be sure. "Stay." Steve lifts a hand to indicate a chair next to the bed. "M'wake."

Danny grins. "Awake? He's awake, the man says, yet I can barely see those please-move-so-I-can-shoot-you eyes." Taking the chair, he pauses before sitting down. "Sure you up for this? I can come back later, take my chances on you not being asleep then."

The wry grin Steve tries to put on his face fails miserably, instead turning into a grimace of pain. He's happy with Danny's company though, as he doesn't see him all that often whenever he is awake. "Busy?" Lifting an eyebrow, he tries to convey the meaning without having to resort to too many, painful words. Danny, as usual, understands, but also evades the real question.

"Am I busy? Our boss and the short tempered detective from LA have decided to take time off from work, and you ask whether I'm busy. No, not in the slightest. All of criminal Hawaii has been gracious enough to suspend any activity until you're back on the job." Danny crosses his arms in mock indignation, secretly pleased to see the ghost of a smile appear on Steve's face.

"Not what ... I meant."

Sighing, Danny uncrosses his arms, then puts them around his knee, slung across his other leg. "Look, your mother, excuse me, _Doris_ ," he corrects himself at the small frown on Steve's face, "Doris has decided that she wants to spend some extra time with you, and I just don't want to run interference, OK?"

What Danny _really_ likes to tell Steve is that his bitch of a scheming mother gives him the heebie-jeebies with her death stares and grim lipped mouth whenever she sees him, and he does his damndest to evade her at all cost. However, Danny doesn't think Steve will appreciate him saying so, although he secretly thinks his friend might actually understand his sentiments.

"Never stopped you." Steve stares at him from between half-closed eyes, obviously on the brink of falling asleep again and fighting to stay awake.

"Yeah, well, this time it's different, McGarrett." Danny manages to stop himself before he rushes into an explanation why this time, indeed, is different from all the other occasions where Steve managed to have grievous bodily harm inflicted upon himself. "Just ... just let's leave it at that, shall we? You'll get sick of my pretty face soon enough once you're out of the hospital again."

Another little smile ghosts around Steve's lips, and Danny watches as his eyes fall shut again. He quietly gets up from the chair, then places a hand on his friend's arm. "I'll be back in a little while, OK buddy? You get some of that much needed sleep you crave right now." A soft mumble is all he gets as an answer, and smiling he turns to leave, only to have the _'Shit!_ ' scared out of him.

"For _fuck's_ sake, Sterling! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on people?!" Danny hisses the words at the man standing quietly in the doorway. Matt, however, is staring straight past him at Steve, a strange look on his face. A look which fills Danny with a restless sense of foreboding. And rightly so, it seems, as Matt's next words take Danny's breath away.

"To answer your question: no, apparently she hasn't."

Danny can feel the blood rush to his head as he realizes Matt knows, just _knows_ what Danny has been so desperately trying to keep secret. He motions to the other man, almost grabbing his arm but deciding to move Matt along with words instead. "Come on, let's continue this conversation somewhere else, OK?" Danny throws one look back at Steve, deeply asleep again, then closes the door.

Matt remains silent, following Danny back into the hallway. For once, Danny is lost for words, doesn't really know how to start what is sure to be an awkward conversation. A quick glance tells him Matt is leaning against the wall, staring into empty space. Danny can only imagine what must be going through his mind right now.

"OK, I've been taught that a conversation always runs smoother if both parties use words to, you know, _communicate_ their feelings or thoughts to each other. What you're doing now, you know, this silent thing ... it's not working." Matt looks at Danny, who suddenly wishes he could just simply disappear, hide from the anguished look in the other man's eyes.

"She's been lying, Danny. Lying about a whole lot of things, it seems."

Not even needing to ask who Matt is referring to, Danny let's out a small, sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, well, that seems to be her _modus operandus_. It takes some getting used to, I'll admit, but ..."

"No, Danny, nobody should have to get _used_ to this. For crying out loud, I have to hear from other people that my whole life has been one fucking _lie!_ Tell me, how do you get used to _that_ ?" Matt slumps against the wall, head bowed. He's a picture of utter dejection, obviously totally blown away by the whole concept of Doris having withheld the fact that she is, in fact, not just Steve's mother but Matt's as well.

Danny sighs, daring to place a hand on the bigger man's arm. "Hey, how about we go somewhere quiet where we can have some coffee, or no, coffee is not going to cut this; where we can have a beer, hell, a _lot_ of beer, and see if we can get this thing sorted out."

Matt nods. Beer sounds really good to him right now; anything with an alcohol content for that matter. Anything that will numb the deep, searing and gut-wrenching pain he has been feeling since he walked into HQ, and overheard Chin talking to Lou. He'll have some beer, talk to Danny, maybe have some more beer, and then ...

Then he's going to _kill_ that lying, scheming bitch of a mother of his!


	22. Closets & Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doris is having a bad day. A very bad day ...

* * *

"If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton,  
you may as well make it dance."

\- George Bernard Shaw -

* * *

"So, how many coffins do you think we'll need after today?" Kono cocks her head, then shrugs her shoulders in feigned innocence as Chin throws her a disgruntled look. "C'mon cuz, did you happen to catch how close to exploding Matt was when he left here? Tūtū Pele has got _nothing_ on that man!" Chin just stares at her, then sighs and returns his attention to the PC table.

Lou throws Kono a glance as she hops off the conference table, her fingers wrapped around one of the remaining malasadas he brought in earlier. "You're gonna grow fat if you keep eating those, young lady." She just grins, bites the malasada in half, screwing her eyes shut in delight. "You look like a cat that just got at the cream, Kono." The rest of the malasada disappears in Kono's mouth, and she waves sticky fingers at her colleague, mumbling something unintelligible.

Chin raises an eyebrow at his younger cousin. "I just _know_ Auntie Nani would disapprove of your lack of manners, Kono."

She smiles, her eyes fond at the mention of her mother's name. "I take it you've never seen her eat fresh papaya or rambutans then. _Papa_ always scolds her for getting juice all over her clothes." She winks at Chin.

Scraping his throat, Lou taps his fingers on the PC table. "Are you guys planning on visiting the hospital today? See how Steve's doing?" He frowns as Kono wipes her fingers on her pants, shakes his head as he turns to face Chin. "You, Chin?"

Contemplating a file on one of the hanging screens, Chin answers without looking at his team mate. "I think it's best if we wait for Danny to tell us what the situation is like." He turns around. "Kono has a point, even though she didn't put it very delicately." He ignores Kono's snort. "Now that Matt knows, it's very possible we might walk into a, ehm ... delicate situation."

Slowly nodding, Lou heaves a sigh. "You know, I almost feel sorry for Doris. She's not going to be targeted by just one but _two_ seriously pissed off sons as soon as Steve's well enough to be told."

Kono lets out another snort. "Sorry for _that_ woman? Brah, I'd sooner feel pity for a serial killer on death row!" Lou stares at her as Chin utters a grunt.

"Harsh, cuz!"

Shrugging her shoulders, Kono comes to stand at the PC table. "Hey, I'm sure she thinks she has a good reason for all this, but when it comes right down to it, she lied to all three of her children." She shakes her head. "Whatever her plans are, however she thinks to solve this, I know one thing for sure: she's got a whole lot of trouble coming her way. And I mean the furious ex-special forces times two kind."

Lou and Chin look at her, then sigh simultaneously. They know Kono is right, and neither one of the men is willingly going to step into that particular hornet's nest.

* * *

"Steve told me Doris had been following, keeping _track_ of me." Matt morosely stares at the empty beer bottle in his hand, fingers absentmindedly picking at the soggy label, then hiccups. "Scuze me." Danny just stares at him, mouth open. How had Steve ...

Matt throws him a quick glance, then sighs, a grim little chuckle escaping his mouth. "Steve came over the night before we took out Brody and told me what he _thought_ was Doris' secret with regard to her interest in me; he confronted her at the hospital after catching her in my room, called her out on her bullshit as it were." He rubs a hand over his face. "But you know, even while we were commiserating about how this woman fucked with our lives, we had no clue as to the _extend_ she fucked with us."

Scraping his throat, Danny tries to wrap his head around Matt's words. "So, you both figured out that she was, you know, surveying you; but you didn't figure out she was _your_ mother as well?" He watches Matt shake his head as he plucks another Longboard from the cooler next to the table.

"No. I mean, why would we even consider that option? The only thing I wondered was the _why_ of her interest, and Steve told me it was because of a promise she had made." Matt burps again, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden rush of sour rising up. "Damn. Better make this the last one." He looks at the row of bottles standing on the table; he should be well on his way to becoming shit-faced, but somehow that magic buzz hasn't happened.

Danny stares at the man sitting across from him. He can see the frustration radiating off the face, sense the anger and pain underneath. Then he realizes something: Matt has been talking about Doris being his mother, but not ... oh, _crap!_ He coughs, lowering his head in an attempt to hide the anxiety suddenly rushing through him.

"What?"

Looking up, Danny stares straight into Matt's inquisitive eyes. Damn the man for not being totally drunk, for still having all his _remember, I'm a detective too_ faculties. For a second, he lets his eyes roam around the living room of Matt's rental apartment, the place they decided would be best for talking and drinking in private.

"What's wrong, Danny?"

Danny's eyes go back to Matt, and he notices the man has become perfectly still, almost frozen, his complete attention focused on Danny which - truth be told - isn't helping to lower the anxiety he's feeling. Danny's unable to suppress the little nervous giggle that escapes his mouth. "Honestly? Right now I'm checking for an emergency exit, because I'm really not sure how you'll react to what I'm about to tell you."

Matt raises an eyebrow, then frowns. "Whatever it is, it can't be worse than ..." He stops as Danny smirks, nodding his head.

"Oh yeah, it can be, trust me; it _is_ worse. Hell, it's probably not even in the same _ball_ park!" Danny sighs, takes a swig from his beer bottle, then scrapes his throat and stares at Matt. "You know, that secret we're suspicious, no, correction: that we actually can be quite certain we _know_ about ... it's not just about Doris being your mother." He watches the frown on Matt's face deepen, then scrapes together every little bit of courage he has. "What I mean to say is: it's not just about your _mother_." He jumps as Matt suddenly slams his hand on the table, making the empty beer bottles rattle.

"For _fuck's_ sake, Danny; spit it out already!"

Quickly putting his beer bottle down, Danny holds out both hands as if to ward off a possible attack. "OK, OK, look ... you might've already figured out Doris and Joe have a relationship, right? I mean, I've caught you looking at the two of them several times. So, it's very possible that ..."

Danny stops as Matt suddenly turns white as a sheet, then gets up and makes a run for the bathroom, his hand covering his mouth. Cringing at the sounds coming from down the hallway, Danny sighs, then picks up his beer again and takes a long swig.

_Yeah, this? Not going very well._

A few moments later Matt reappears, plunks down on the couch and leans back, running a hand through his hair. Danny watches him in silence, giving the man the time he needs to gather his thoughts, to wrap his mind around what must be one of the nastiest shocks he's ever experienced.

After a few minutes, Matt burps, then scowls and grimaces.

Danny shudders. "Yeah, OK, that was ... well, probably grosser for you than for me, but still, not enjoyable to watch." He lifts his bottle in a half-hearted toast, eliciting an eye-roll from Matt. "So we agree on that then. Nice. Good."

"You ever give that mouth of yours a rest, Williams?" Matt frowns at him, then gets up and walks to the kitchen. Pouring himself a glass of water, he takes a long sip, then turns around to face Danny again. "When did you figure it out? _How_ did you figure it out?" He walks back to the couch, sits back down and sighs. "Steve and I, we never even touched on that possibility. I mean, not just the fact that we might be, you know, half-brothers, but ..." He shakes his head, then takes another sip of water.

"Well," Danny starts, scratching his head, "I guess you don't go around looking at people and thinking _'Hey, I wonder if that could be my mother or father, or_ _ **his**_ _parents'_. I mean, usually, anyway." He leans forward. "I figured out that Doris might be your mother after the whole episode with Brody at the docks. The way she looked at both you and Steve after you shot Brody, the way she _smiled_ ... I kinda recognized that from the way my ex-wife would look at our daughter. And then at the hospital, she asked about you _both_. That really clenched the deal, for me at least." He takes another swig from his beer, then giggles. "That, and the death stares, the 'Danny Williams knows and I'm gonna kill him' looks she kept throwing in my direction."

Matt takes in Danny words, silent, still looking somewhat green around the gills; he seems to turn over the words in his mind, then asks: "So why do you think Joe ... ?"

Danny shrugs. "Simple arithmetic; basically a matter of stringing things together, adding things up. The way Joe volunteered to look after you while you woke up from being sedated, and then," he shudders, "the _look_ he gave me when I wondered why he was so involved." Danny winks at Matt. "I realized I'd seen that look before as well, you know; on _your_ face, when Joe slapped you and Steve after you guys finished overhauling Chin's office. That day made an, ehm, impact on me." He watches Matt cringe at the words.

"Yeah, definitely not one of my finest moments." Matt gives Danny a look which is almost identical to Steve's puppy face, the one he usually gives Danny when he either begs for a favor or knows he has messed up somehow. Danny points at him.

"That, right there; _that's_ what really convinced me my suspicions were correct." Matt lifts an eyebrow and Danny grins. "Once I suspected and started observing, it was _so_ obvious. You and Steve, the two of you are so much alike in _so_ many ways ... your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you walk ..."

Matt grunts. "The way I walk?"

"The way you _both_ walk, that swagger. Like you guys dare Life to throw everything it's got at you, challenge it to come out fighting simply because you're aching for an excuse to blow something up, to bust something to pieces. That's not just the burden of career history, that's _DNA_ !"

Hanging his head, Matt mumbles something unintelligible, then looks up to face Danny again. "Funny thing, that DNA. I always thought I was a throw-back to some of my, well, some of my _perceived_ family members, Mom and Dad being blond and all. Just like Jimmy." He pales again. "Oh God ... _Jimmy_ ! How in the hell am I going to explain this to him?!" Matt runs both hands along his face, then rests his head on his fists. When he speaks again, his voice is soft. "This is going to kill Jimmy. He'll probably feel like he's a _real_ orphan now. No immediate family left ..."

Danny shakes his head. "Don't think like that." Matt raises his eyebrow. "No really. Look, you've always been his brother, right? You two grew up together if I understood correctly, and you've looked after him ever since your, well, _his_ parents died. That makes you brothers. Simple. It's not all about blood, you know. It's about relationships. Nothing will, or should, anyway, destroy that type of bond."

He takes another sip of his beer, starting to feel the influence. Another giggle escapes his mouth, and Matt snorts.

"What now, Williams?"

Danny shakes his head, giggles again before he can stop himself. "You and Steve, being brothers. I mean, you might want to hang on to Jimmy. Compared to Steve, he might be the preferred option."

Matt just looks at him and shakes his head.

"No, seriously. You and Steve? That's gonna be a real roller-coaster ride!"

Danny giggles again.

"Double trouble!"

* * *

Doris is watching Steve sleep, taking in the twitches that cause his eyes to clench shut and his lips to turn up into a semi-grimace. She has never actually seen him sleep ever since he grew up, only has the memories of the young boy who would lay on his back, face and body relaxed, arm flung above his head, sleeping peacefully.

The sleep of this man though, this adult son of hers does not even remotely resemble peaceful, and she frowns as another twitch causes his features to scrunch up. "Think it's pain, Joe?" She turns towards the man standing at her shoulder, then looks back at her son.

"Could be, Doris, could be. Of course, it might be the memory of the car accident or," Joe carefully broaches the subject, "his PTSD." Doris turns around again.

"Steve has PTSD as well? How come I never ..." She stops herself. Of _course_ she has never heard about it, as close-mouthed Steve has been about anything regarding him personally. Another result of that dreadful decision they had to make so many years ago; a decision which has cost her the love of two of her children. And she's pretty sure the third one will have anything but loving feelings towards her when the truth comes out about _his_ youth.

She utters a soft laugh. "God, Joe. I've made such a mess of things." She leans back against him, sighing as he wraps his arms around her, hugging her close.

"Not just you, honey; _we_ have made a mess of things. You, me and John; the three of us. We just never thought about the long term effects of what we did, only thought about their safety at that moment."

Doris nods. "That's true." She turns around in his arms, looks up into his steel-blue eyes. "However, that last decision, the one about Matt ... that one's not on you."

Joe leans back, staring down into her eyes. "No, you're right about that; that one isn't on me. That one can be completely written to the account of your parents." He holds up his hand as she starts to speak. "I don't care what you say, Doris. They should've at least consulted with _my_ parents, hell, with _me_ before any such decision was made." His eyes are suddenly cold and angry. "Your parents didn't only force you to give up your child ... they stole my _son_ from me!"

Sighing, Doris is about to speak when a cough sounds from behind her. When she turns around, she finds herself growing cold as she looks straight into a set of eyes which hold a mixture of anger, curiosity and - oh God - pure and utter disdain.

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about ... _Doris_ ?! And what _son_ , Joe ?!"

* * *

"That was Danny," says Chin as he puts his cell phone down. "Seems he's been having a heart-to-heart talk with Matt over some beers; discussing the 'secret'."

Lou grunts. "Not so secret anymore, I think. And if it had been me, I think I would need a _case_ of beer to drown all that grief." Chin grins.

"From the sound of it, that might actually be, ehm, 'the case'." Lou guffaws as Chin continues. "Danny sounded as if he had more than his share of alcohol, possibly some form of liquid courage, as he told Matt about Joe as well." Chin looks over his shoulder as Kono hisses between her teeth, lifting his eyebrow at her.

"You gotta give Danny credit for having big brass ones, cuz. Telling Matt about Joe possibly being his father after he stormed out the way he did?" She utters a snort. "That almost equals to suicide in my opinion."

Chin sighs. "Well, little one, you might be right again, at least where Matt's reaction is concerned. Danny informed me that his current mood is just a notch below homicidal. He thinks that, as soon as Matt gets over the beers and the fact that he actually literally _threw up_ when Danny told him, he will be on his way to confront both Doris and Joe. He's asleep now."

Shaking his head, Lou sits down on one of the chairs. "And here I've paid good money in the past to see Wrestle Mania events, while all the time I could just sit back and enjoy similar shows right in my own back yard."

"Well," says Chin, "In order to stay safe and out of trouble, I think our best course of action is to just remain here until the coast is clear."

Kono grins. "That, or gets blown up."

Chin throws Lou an exasperated look, and both men sigh.

* * *

Matt is lying on his bed, arms beneath his head, staring up at the yellow and brown stains on the ceiling. _Water damage_ , he thinks. _Loose shingles, or a clogged drain. Somebody should fix that._ A small part of his brain is telling him: 'Hey! That's _not_ the issue currently at hand! You should ...'

He should ... what? Scream? Rant? Rave? Get _mad_ ?! OK, he's mad already, well, no, not mad ... _furious_! Furious at Doris, furious at Joe, furious at the two people who decided that, shit _yeah_ it's OK to fuck up Matt Sterling's life!

_There's some wood out in the shed in the yard, that should stop water from entering through the roof._

'Shut up' he tells his mind, then sighs and gets out of bed. Sleep won't come, he knows that for a fact, having only used it as a pretext to gracefully bow out of Danny's company. The guy's alright, and he's got the best of intentions, but right now Matt just simply wants to be left alone. And since he couldn't very well kick Danny out the door after the amount of alcohol the man has drunk, the only option was to retreat into the bedroom. Which is starting to feel pretty claustrophobic.

Putting on his boots, then carefully opening the door, Matt quietly walks towards the living room and peers around the corner. Danny is sprawled out on the couch, snoring as if he's taking down half the Amazon. It doesn't look like he'll wake any time soon, but Matt still does his best not to make any noise as he carefully takes his keys and, as an afterthought, his gun from the coffee table.

For a moment he thinks about leaving Danny a note, but as he has no clue where he's heading, it's really a moot point. Opening the front door, he freezes as the creaking wood causes Danny to restlessly murmur in his sleep. He waits until Danny has settled down again, then steps outside and gently closes the door behind him.

* * *

Doris has never been known to lose her nerve, even keeping both her cool and her head in situations that would cause most of her male CIA-colleagues to wet their pants. Until now. She can honestly say that the feeling which is currently constricting her throat, is causing her nerves to be all a-jitter and her heart to speed up is nothing more or less than pure, unadulterated _panic_.

Staring at her son, at his scowling face, at his eyes which are dark with some stormy emotion - and her bet is that it's anger, or more likely, rage - she feels the very last shred of the illusionary control, the grip she _thought_ she had on the whole situation, slip away.

"Steven ..."

Her son ignores her, nay, dismisses her with a single, cold glance, instead directing his gaze at Joe, who stands there, calm as a cucumber, letting her youngest son's murderous look wash over him like it's nothing more than an enjoyable shower.

"Joe, please be so kind to explain what the _hell_ is going on here?!"

As he walks towards the bed, Joe throws a reassuring look over his shoulder at Doris which, to be honest, isn't doing _anything_ to alleviate this unknown feeling of sheer terror, this sensation of slowly sinking into a pool of quicksand.

"I'll explain everything, son, but you got to try and stay calm, OK?"

Steve snorts. "Son, huh? Is _that_ what this is all about? I've been calling the wrong man 'Dad' all my life?"

Doris cringes at the acerbic words, sees Joe suddenly fold in on himself in response to the almost hateful look Steve gives him, then recover as he pulls up a chair next to the bed and sits down.

"No, Steve, _no_. That's _not_ what's going on here." Joe pulls a hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment, then leans forward and looks at Steve. "John is your true father, in every sense of the word; don't you ever doubt that. And Doris," Joe waves a hand at her, indicating her to come closer, "Doris is your mother. This has nothing to do with you. Well, nothing in as far as changing your relationship with your parents."

A confused look now crosses over Steve's face, and he finally looks at Doris again. She tries to smile at him, knows she's failing miserably, and a fresh rush of anxiety courses through her when Steve looks away again, dismissing her for a second time. It hurts. Badly.

Steve looks back at Joe again, the anger now almost replaced by confusion. "Then what the fuck was that all about, what you said about my grandparents stealing your ..." It hits him, as sudden and mind-blowing as a flash of lightning on a clear Summer's day. "Oh my God ... Matt? Were you talking about _Matt_ ?!"

Feeling as if she's about to collapse, Doris sinks into a chair behind Joe, staring at the incredulous look which has appeared on Steve's face. Joe just nods, not saying a word, and Steve utters a harsh sound before falling completely silent, closing his eyes; thinking. Just as Doris can't stand the silence anymore, feeling as if it is going to crush her, Steve opens his eyes again, then looks straight at Doris, his gaze cold and unforgiving.

"Not just _Joe's_ son, is he? Matt, I mean. He's yours as well. Which makes him," he utters a snort, "well, imagine that, which makes him my brother. Or half-brother, to be exact. And you were going to tell us this ... when?" Steve keeps his eyes locked with Doris for a moment, then turns away.

A sound escapes Doris' throat, a kind of sob, and she instinctively puts out a hand towards Steve, an unbidden gesture meant to both take away the hurt and offer her apology; a mother's plea to her child to _please_ understand. It's in vain, she knows, and her hand falls back into her lap, unnoticed.

"Son ..."starts Joe, but he's cut off by a short, humorless laugh as Steve whips his head around, subconsciously cringing at the flash of pain the sudden movement causes.

"Addressing the wrong child here, buddy; you want to say that to Doris' _other_ son. The one she kept tabs on while I was under the impression that _my_ mother was _dead_!" Steve sees the hurt in Joe's eyes, hears the shocked sound Doris makes, but right now, well, he just couldn't care less. All he wants now is for his world to stop spinning, his _head_ to stop hurting, and Joe and Doris ...

"Please leave. Just ... just get out."

Steve doesn't see Doris get up and move towards the bed, only to be stopped by Joe's hand. He doesn't see the tears starting to course down his mother's face, doesn't see Joe's arm wrap itself around her and gently steer her towards the door, doesn't see the desperate glance she throws back at her son.

Steve just wants to be left alone.


End file.
